


(to give you more) and ask for it in turn

by stuffy_j



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fire, Light Angst, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Medic Jack, Minor Ana Amari/Reinhardt Wilhelm, Minor Sombra/Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix, Miscommunication, Musical Instruments, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Poetry, Writer Jack, bartender gabriel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 18:52:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19729717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stuffy_j/pseuds/stuffy_j
Summary: Gabriel looked at him expectantly. His mouth was hanging open, shit. Oh god, Gabriel was going to figure out that Jack had a completely inappropriate crush on him, that he thought about his thighs several times a day, that he daydreamed about kissing--Thankfully, Sombra popped up from behind the bar. “Gabe, we’re out of limes,” she said, saving Jack’s moronic ass from certain humiliation. “Our supplier forgot them this morning. Again.”Jack writes poetry. Gabriel owns a bar. This is how they come together.Written for the 2019 Reaper76 Reverse Bang.





	(to give you more) and ask for it in turn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ShanBlackRX](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShanBlackRX/gifts).



> This story was so much fun to work on, even if it ended up being about twice as long as I thought it was going to be -- Shan's art is just that amazing!! I'm so glad I got to work with them on this, they've been amazingly supportive and excited throughout the whole process, and I can only hope that what I've written holds even a single candle to their fantastic art that inspired me so much. It was absolutely wonderful to be able to work on both my prose and my poetry writing in this story; it's been several years since I've had the chance to write any poetry, and this helped me remember how much fun it can be!
> 
> Thank you a million times over to both Kasi ([foldingcranes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/foldingcranes/pseuds/foldingcranes)) and Kate ([Squeebop](https://twitter.com/Squeebop)) for dealing with me as I wrote this, providing excellent beta-ing, and not letting me delete 3k words in a fit of pique.
> 
> You can find more of Shan's beautiful art [here.](https://twitter.com/ShanBlackRX)
> 
> Feel free to come yell at me on [twitter.](https://twitter.com/stuffy_jj)

“Though we live in a world that dreams of ending  
that always seems about to give in  
something that will not acknowledge conclusion  
insists that we forever begin.” - “Begin,” by Brendan Kennelly

“What if I bought a new notebook?”

Ana looked up from the book she was flipping through, a flat look on her face. “Do you _need_ a new notebook?” she asked, her tone making it clear that she already knew the answer.

“Maybe,” Jack said, failing to hide the small grin that broke out across his face. He held up the handsome, slim, leather-bound notebook he’d found for her appraisal. “Just look at how nice it is!”

Ana continued to look unimpressed. “You have approximately fourteen empty notebooks in your apartment,” she said. “A new one isn’t going to do anything other than gather more dust on a shelf.”

Jack made a face at her and put the notebook down. “Ugh. Why do you have to be so right all the time?”

“Because I’m better than you,” she said, going back to flipping through the book in her hands. “A new notebook isn’t going to help you start writing again, Jack. And you already know my thoughts on the matter.”

Rolling his eyes, Jack stepped back from the display table and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Come on, let’s go. You’re not going to have time to read that with the semester starting back up, don’t waste your money on it.” He started walking towards the exit, his shoulders slightly hunched.

Ana narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m buying it now just to spite you. And you know I’m right, Jack. Writing has only been causing you _more_ stress than it takes away lately. You need to find another outlet. Like --”

“I’m not gonna go sing my poems in a bar, Ana,” he interrupted, not looking at her. “No one wants to hear that. I’ll… I’ll figure something else out. Maybe try to pick up some more hours at work or something.” Just the thought sent anxiety rippling through him, nausea swirling in the pit of his stomach. His words were… they were _his_. They were _him_ , unpolished and inelegant.

A slim hand between his shoulder blades stopped Jack in his tracks, and he turned around to look down into Ana’s dark eyes, full of an understanding that made him want to flinch away. “Jack,” was all she said, her voice low and comforting, and he smiled weakly at her.

“Sorry. I’m being dumb, I know.”

Ana sighed and shook her head. “It’s up to you, obviously. But classes start in a week, and you’ve been stuck in a rut for nearly two months now. You wouldn’t have gotten into your program if your poetry wasn’t good, and I know you know that. What difference does it make if it's your professors reading it or a bar full of people who don’t know you hearing it once?”

_It makes all the difference_ , Jack thought, but didn’t say it out loud. “I’ll think about it,” he said instead, half-apology and half-promise. “Hurry up and get your book, I told Lena I’d cover her shift for tonight, so I gotta get to the hospital soon.”

Ana pulled out her phone and checked the time. “Will you drop me off at the lab on your way over?” she asked, slipping it back into her pocket. “I have to go update some readings, might as well get a few hours of work in while I’m at it.”

“Work never stops, huh,” Jack grinned. “Someday you’ll be too busy for us mere mortals in the humanities departments.”

“Get into a doctorate program and you won’t be so smug.” Ana walked to the register to pay for her book. “Also, I don’t trust the undergrads not to fuck something up. I still don’t understand why they let nineteen year olds work in the biomedical engineering labs. It feels like half of them are more interested in trying to fuck in the freezer than they are in the research.”

“Aw, come on Ana, don’t tell me you’ve never dreamed about getting it on with someone in the walk-in freezer in the lab.”

“I most certainly have not,” she sniffed, accepting her change from the wide-eyed cashier behind the counter. “That would be highly unsanitary, and not to mention detrimental to my research.”

Jack bumped her with his shoulder as they walked out of the store. “You just need to live a little.”

Ana gave him a look that Jack had filed under the _Jack, you’re an idiot_ classification of Ana Expressions. “We’re in grad school, Jack. We don’t get to have a life.”

***

Jack wasn’t sure if he was happy or annoyed that it was a pretty quiet shift. On one hand, it meant the undergrads who had moved back to town before the semester began had either gotten more responsible, or had postponed their binge drinking for this weekend. On the other hand, it meant he had much more time than usual to sit in front of one of his fourteen other empty notebooks and not-write. Like usual. He could feel the words swirling inside of him, images and ideas that just needed him to _start_ in order for them to come pouring out and onto the page. But every time he put his pen to the stark white paper, nothing would happen. The words wouldn’t come out, getting stuck behind some roadblock in his mind, in his mouth. He could nearly taste the words on his tongue, ready to drop them into the world, but they would melt as soon as he opened his lips, disappearing into nothing but air and the faintest memory of a flavor that he couldn’t find the words to describe.

He was getting really fucking frustrated, and honestly would not have minded a sudden call to anywhere, even a frat party with too many guys wearing obnoxious snapbacks and dubiously sticky floors.

“You okay there, Jack?” 

The voice startled him out of his reverie, and Jack blinked and looked up at his fellow EMT, Lúcio, who was carrying two styrofoam cups of coffee. He set one down next to Jack, his eyebrows raised, waiting for him to answer.

“Oh, yeah,” Jack coughed, putting his pen down and closing his (still empty) notebook. “Just… writer’s block, you know? It’s annoying.”

Lúcio nodded and took a sip from his coffee, making a slight face at the taste. “Yeah, I get it,” he said. “Trying to work on anything important? Maybe talking about it with someone else will help?”

Jack sipped his own coffee, grimacing himself at how the burnt flavor mingled with the plastic-y taste of styrofoam in his mouth. “How do they manage to brew it so bad _every time_?” he muttered, pointedly not looking at Lúcio and his open, earnest face. “Uh, thanks for the offer, but I’m good. I’m just trying to get unstuck before the semester starts, it’s not vital or anything.”

“I didn’t realize you were in school.” 

Jack looked up at the surprise in Lúcio’s voice, suddenly viscerally reminded of the fact that Lúcio was nearly a decade younger than him and gaining work experience before he applied to medical school. “Oh, um, yeah,” he said, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “Grad school. At the university. Sun Valley, I mean, here in town. GI Bill’s paying for a chunk of it, so that’s nice.” He cringed internally at how he was stumbling over his words.

Excitement blossomed across Lúcio’s face, and he sat down backwards in the chair next to Jack’s. “No way! That’s awesome, man! What program? Sun Valley’s my top choice for med school, they have a really strong emergency medicine department.” Before Jack could answer, Lúcio slanted a look at him, expression suddenly a little suspicious. “Wait, you’re not leaving us, are you? ‘Cause I feel like I should’ve heard about this before now, if you were planning on quitting once classes start up.”

“No, no,” Jack chuckled, “I’ll still be here. Definitely no plans to quit. Still gotta make some cash, and besides, if I left, this whole place would be up in flames in less than a day.”

Lúcio laughed and gave Jack’s shoulder a friendly shove. “Nah, we’d just all miss the cookies you bring in sometimes. Ooh, wait, if you’re going to grad school, does that mean you’ll be stress baking more often?”

“Odds are pretty good, I’d say.” 

“ _Hell_ yeah!” Lúcio punched the air in excitement, and Jack chuckled. The other EMTs tended to fall on his double-chocolate-raspberry cookies like locusts whenever he brought them in. He knew Lena kept tupperware stashed somewhere just so she could grab a bunch and save them for her girlfriend. Even some of the doctors were known to just _stop by_ randomly when the gossip mill let them know that Jack had brought in cookies. 

Lúcio took a sip of his coffee again, nodding to himself. “Hell yeah,” he repeated, “still gonna have cookies. That’s awesome. Wait, you dodged my question, what program are you in? Health management? Something biology related?”

“I didn’t dodge your question!” Jack said, trying to figure out how to dodge the question. He took another sip of coffee in an attempt to give himself more time to think. No luck. The acrid taste burned all attempts at lying out of his head. “It’s uh. It’s the poetry writing program. I’m getting my MFA,” he admitted, carefully not looking at Lúcio. 

“No way!” Lúcio exclaimed, and Jack looked up, surprised to see excitement shining out of Lúcio’s eyes instead of confusion or dismissal. “I had no idea you wrote poetry, Jack! That’s amazing!” 

Jack awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, gesturing down at the blank page below him. “Well, not much actual writing happening these days, unfortunately. Like I said, hoping this writer’s block breaks soon.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Lúcio said, “I like to write songs, though I tend to work more on the music itself, rather than the lyrics, you know? But sometimes it’s a huge struggle to just get _anything_ figured out. You’ve got this, though!” He clapped a friendly hand on Jack’s shoulder and smiled at him. “And hey, if you ever wanna collab, just let me know, yeah? Having someone do lyrics while I just focus on the music would be a huge weight off my back, honestly.” 

“I’m not sure my poetry would make good songs--” Jack started, but Lúcio cut him off.

“Poetry is just songs without music, and music is just songs without poetry, man. Some poems fit music better than others. Hell, the first poems were most likely sung as part of the oral tradition of storytelling, you know?” he winked at Jack. “Not saying you have to do it, but if you ever wanna take me up on my offer, you’ve got my number.”

A wry smile spread across Jack’s face. “Yeah. Yeah, I do. Thanks, I’ll definitely think about it.” He looked back down at the blank paper in front of him and sighed, closing the notebook for now. “Think it’s a lost cause, at least for tonight. I’ll try again tomorrow.”

_You need to find another outlet._

Ana’s words echoed in his mind, and he sighed, pressing the heels of his hands to his suddenly itching eyes and rubbing until he saw bursting colors behind his eyelids. Maybe she and Lúcio were both right. Maybe converting a few of his poems to songs would help more than hurt. He had that old guitar in his apartment, the one he hadn’t played in several years. It was probably badly out of tune by this point, but that was fine. He could fix it back up, make it play again… 

He was pulled out of his thoughts by the shrill sound of the call alarm, an address already coming from dispatch. Possible heart attack. He and Lúcio hopped to attention, and their ambulance was on its way within minutes. 

***

Ana’s voice had been more smug than Jack was comfortable with when he’d called her and asked for the name of the bar she’d told him about, but she’d given it to him with relatively little fuss. He looked it up online before heading over, vaguely impressed at how professional and clean the website looked. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting from some place called “Reaper’s Hollow,” but the tastefully dark background with legible white text that detailed the limited food menu and tap offerings was not it. He’d expected more… blood splatter graphics, he supposed. A poorly animated bat swooping across the screen, maybe.

The bar was tucked away on a side street on the other side of town, away from Sun Valley, which meant it didn’t get much of the student population. That was more than okay with him; the thought of sitting in front of a bunch of drunk college kids and singing made his arms itch wildly. 

It didn’t look very large from the outside, just a heavy wooden door next to a darkened window that fronted onto the street. The only indication that it _was_ a bar, and not some creepy shut-in’s murder apartment, was a sign hanging above the entrance proclaiming “Reaper’s Hollow,” with a stylized raven as the logo. It didn’t look like anyone was inside, but then again, it was 11am on a Tuesday. They were probably technically closed at the moment.

Taking a deep breath, Jack hitched up his guitar case a little further on his back, and pushed the door open. The interior of the bar felt dark and cool, most of the lights turned off except for a small antique lamp with a stained glass shade behind the bar, which took up most of the left side of the room. The bar itself was massive, made of rich, dark wood and beautifully carved, and the liquor selection behind it looked extensive and well-stocked, with a particular emphasis on whiskey. Jack grinned. Even if he wasn’t allowed to perform here, maybe he’d stop by every once in a while for a drink. Whiskey was his weakness after a particularly grueling shift, after all.

The space was narrow but long, and Jack could see that the room opened up slightly at the end of the bar, with a small stage raised an inch or two off the main floor in the back. Tall booths sat across from the bar, and several tables ringed the back area. There was a door on the back wall that looked like it opened outside, so Jack guessed that there was an outdoor patio, or something. Several framed movie posters were hung up on the walls, along with… basketball photos? He stared at them, brows raised. An interesting combination for a place like this.

“Hello?” he called, wondering if he was technically breaking and entering. There didn’t seem to be any sign of human life other than the single lit lamp.

“Be right -- fuck!” came a voice from far away, and then several crashing noises intermixed with some very colorful swearing. And was that Spanish? Jack looked around, unnerved. Should he help? The crashing sounds intensified, but he couldn’t tell where they were coming from. 

A small door set behind one of the tall booths crashed open, revealing a young woman with purple hair hauling out a crate of beer. She was still muttering angrily as she stalked over to the bar and put it down not all that gently before turning to Jack. “We’re closed,” she said, abrupt but not unkind.

“Uh, Ana sent me?” Jack said, his cheeks heating up as she continued to stare at him. She was wearing high-waisted dark jeans and a cropped t-shirt with a stylized skull on it, and the side of her head was shaved. Her eyes were dark and not all that friendly. “My name is Jack?” he tried, flashing her a weak smile.

“Are you asking me if your name is Jack, or are you telling me?” she teased, amusement filling those dark eyes. She was chewing bubble gum, apparently, because she snapped it between her lips as she smiled at him, sharp. 

Jack felt his cheeks heat. “Telling you,” he said, trying to pull the strap of the guitar case over his head. He smacked himself lightly in the face instead, and the strap caused his glasses to go askew. Fuck. He’d forgotten he was wearing them. A late night shift combined with today’s early-ish appointment meant that his eyes had been too dry to put his contacts in this morning. “Ana, uh, Ana told me that you guys were looking for some live music entertainment one or two nights a week? I came to try out.”

Recognition dawned on the woman’s face. “Oh, _you’re_ Jack! Of course!” She smiled at him again, and he had the distinct sensation that her smile would not have looked out of place on a shark. “Yes, Ana told me all about you. Well, she told Gabe all about you. And he told me. So he might not have told me everything. But I know enough,” she said, her look suddenly intense. Jack nearly took a step back. 

“Uh,” he started. Should he leave? He should leave. He had no idea what was going on. Ana was _so_ going to buy him a drink later.

The woman nearly doubled over laughing, loud and bright. “Ah, fuck, that was too good,” she said, wiping the corners of her eyes with a well-manicured hand. “You should’ve seen your face, _rubiecito_. Sorry, sorry, I’m Sombra, it’s nice to meet you. Yeah, Ana said you’d be coming in today. You’re a student over at the college?”

Jack blinked at her, every muscle in his body tense. “Yeah,” he said, slow. “Look, is Ashton Kutcher about to jump out from somewhere and tell me I’ve been punked or something?”

“Wow, you’re older than you look.” She raised an eyebrow at him, light flashing off the ring around it that he’d just noticed. She had a decent number of piercings, as well as a few tattoos visible on her arms. “Alright, grandpa, show me what you’ve got.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that,” she confirmed, leading him back towards the small stage. “Go ahead and set up, and just give me a song or two you’re thinking of playing. Can be original, covers, whatever you want.” She pulled a chair out from one of the tables and sat down on it backwards, crossing her arms over the top and looking at him expectantly.

“Alright then,” he said, and put his guitar case down carefully on a table. He’d tuned it this morning, so it should still be fine, but just to check, he careful ran a finger across the strings, making them vibrate in the cool, still air. Satisfied with the sound, he looped the strap over his head and sat down on the stool in front of Sombra. “I have a couple of covers in my list as well, but I’ll play you an original for now, so you can see if you’re actually into this or not.” 

Sombra nodded. “Sounds good.”

“Okay,” Jack said, closing his eyes. His hands were shaking, which was stupid. This was… he was only playing for one person. He’d practiced a lot for this, strung chords together into a simple melody that highlighted the mood of the poem, complimented the rhythm. _Relax_ , he told himself. _You’re doing this to relax._

He felt his heartbeat slow, his breathing even out. He tapped his foot a few times. He took a breath; his fingers stretched across the fretboard. And then he started to sing.

_The morning is tinted golden,_  
_and I am doing dishes when the light on the window_  
becomes flash paper --  
_a flaring memory, brilliant_  
_in its brevity: the same shade of light_  
_on a blue dress she wore_  
_for Saturday morning chores._  
_A glimpse of_  
_blonde hair. A quarter-smile._  
_Gone again. Burned up in time._  
_She was_  
_a sliver of light I_  
_never got to hold,_  
_only my memories of her falling_  
_like shards of water_  
_across my scarred palms._  
_I look at the sparrow perched_  
_outside my window, bathed_  
_in gold._  
_A memory preserved,_  
_but not real._

As the notes faded out, he looked up at Sombra, waiting for her reaction. He wasn’t entirely sure, but she looked a little impressed, which he took as a good sign. “What’s your range like?” she asked, taking out a small notebook and writing a few things down. “Covers-wise, I mean.”

“Uh, I can do a little of everything that sounds good with an acoustic guitar. Probably a little heavier on the classic rock and some country than some other genres, but I know enough to get by. And not all of my original stuff is as depressing as that. I’ve just, uh. Been stuck in a writing rut for a while.”

She nodded and wrote a few more notes down before snapping the book shut. “Got it. Well, I don’t think I need to hear one of your covers, I have a pretty good sense of your style. How often are you looking to play? Oh, and compensation, that’s the other part of the discussion.”

Jack tried to keep his breathing even, though he was less successful at keeping the awestruck look off of his face. “Doesn’t have to be too often. Maybe once a week, twice if you wanted? I have a job that schedules me for a decent number of night shifts, but I always know way before when those are going to be.” He thought about the other half of her question. “I mean, I’m not sure I’d consider myself professional in any way, but maybe I could play for tips or something?”

Sombra made a considering noise, tapping the pen against her lower lip. “You definitely need to play for Gabe when he gets back, I don’t wanna suddenly book you up with a full month’s schedule or anything without him hearing what you sound like. I doubt he’ll have any problems with you, but better safe than sorry when it comes to the bossman, yeah?”

Some strange mix of relief and anxiety twisted together in the pit of his stomach at her words. It was… it was happening. This crazy idea where he’d sing his stupid poems to a bar a couple of times a month. Well, as long as whoever this “Gabe” person was okayed it. 

“Here, which of these days work for you?” Sombra interrupted his thoughts, shoving her phone in his face, the calendar pulled up. A couple of dates and times were on display as possibilities for Jack’s trial run. He scanned them quickly, pulling out his own phone to check against his work schedule. 

“What about next Wednesday?”

“Works for me. I’ll pencil you in. Better see you then, _güero_ , or I’ll have to hunt you down.” 

There was a glint in her eye that made Jack think her warning was entirely serious. “I’ll be here,” he promised, setting an appointment in his own phone so he wouldn’t forget. 

Sombra stuck out her hand, and they shook on it. “Alright, get out of here. I’m doing prep and covering the shift tonight by myself, so I can’t just sit around and listen to music. I’ve tried it before, believe me.”

Jack gave her a short mock salute and left.

Fuck, the wait was going to be excrutiating.

***

“I think you’ll like him, Gabe. He’s good, and pretty easy on the eyes, I gotta say.”

Gabriel grunted from where he was picking up a box of supplies. “If you say so. Wish you had invited a couple of different people back for me to see, some comparison would have been nice.”

Sombra rolled her eyes. “He comes highly recommended. From Ana, no less. Don’t you trust her judgement?”

“Sometimes. She’s the one who decided to leave a well-paying career and go back to school.”

“Aww, is someone jealous they’re not a smarty-pants like Ana? _Pobrecito_.”

Gabriel laughed, loading beer bottles into the mini-fridge under the bar. “Absolutely not, I like making money. And not doing homework. And not dealing with undergrads.”

“You deal with undergrads sometimes,” Sombra said, and Gabriel could _hear_ the smirk in her voice. 

“Not anymore,” he smirked back. “That’s what I hired you for, remember? Or are you telling me you’re not doing your job?”

She stuck her tongue out at him, but went back to polishing glasses and putting them away. They worked in comfortable silence for a few more minutes, moving in tandem around the bar as they prepared to open for the evening. 

Gabriel wasn’t expecting a large crowd tonight, not on a generic Wednesday just before the start of classes. One or two of the regulars might stop by, but even that wasn’t guaranteed; he knew a lot of people in town who tried to take their vacations right when the semester started up so they could avoid the craziness. But there was no rest for the wicked, that was for sure. And certainly not for bar owners.

The front door to the bar pushed open, and Gabriel glanced up, about to (politely… maybe) tell whoever walked in that they were still closed. 

“Jack!” Sombra exclaimed, dropping her dishrag and walking over to the man who had just entered. Gabriel quietly cursed her. This guy _was_ easy on the eyes. He hated when Sombra was right.

“Let me introduce you to Gabriel, the bossman around here,” Sombra was saying, walking Jack over to him. Gabriel sized him up as best he could without making it too obvious, but he wasn’t sure how successful he was. Jack was tall and broad-shouldered, with an open-collared shirt that displayed a hint of capable muscle and a defined chest. He had a guitar case slung across his back, highlighting the way his chest tapered down to his waist and slim but clearly powerful legs. He was blonde and blue-eyed and goddammit, Gabriel was _so_ going to kill Sombra for knowing him way too well.

“Jack, Gabriel. Gabriel, this is Jack,” she said, flashing Gabriel a small, knowing smile. 

Jack smiled at him and stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you, and thanks for the opportunity with this.”

Shaking his hand, Gabriel was surprised to feel how rough and calloused they were; not soft and unworked, like he half-expected an academic’s hands to be. The twin scars bisecting Jack’s face were also not was he was expecting. “You, too,” he said, suddenly aware of the fact that he’d been essentially staring at Jack without saying a word for a little too long. He cleared his throat. “Thanks for coming by. I’ve heard good things about you so far. We can consider tonight a bit of a trial run, if you want. It’s not going to get too busy in here, but we can see how it goes.”

“Sounds good to me,” Jack said. “Where do you want me to set up? In the back, I’m guessing.”

Gabriel nodded. “Yeah, up on the little stage area. Do you have any equipment that you need to set up? I’ve got some extension cords in the basement if you need them.” It wasn’t that big a bar, but Gabriel knew that musicians could be a little particular about their acoustics.

“Just a small microphone, but I may not need it,” Jack said, setting his case down on a table and opening it up. The guitar inside was well-maintained, Gabriel could tell. “I’m okay with being background music, for the most part.” He flashed a smile over his shoulder at Gabriel. “So, do I get free drinks since I’m the entertainment?”

Gabriel snorted and crossed his arms. “I’ll get you a beer if you want.”

“Whoa, really?” Jack said, surprise evident in his voice. “Ah, maybe later. Actually, maybe a different day? I have a late night shift after this, I don’t think even just a beer is a good idea.”

“Suit yourself,” Gabriel shrugged. He turned back to Sombra. “You all ready back there? It’s about time to open. Not that I think we’re going to be swarmed tonight.”

“All good!” Sombra gave him a thumbs-up from behind the bar. “We are running a bit low on limes, you should add them to tomorrow’s grocery list. But we’ll be able to make it through the night, unless someone with a lime fetish comes through.”

Behind them, the first notes from the guitar rose up, soft, as Jack strummed across the strings to check the tuning. Satisfied, he played a couple of chords that sounded clear and precise to Gabriel, warming up. 

“Do you need anything else?” Gabriel asked him, and Jack looked up. 

“Maybe a water?”

“No problem.”

“Thanks.” Jack took a sip and set the glass down behind his seat where it was out of the way. “When do you want me to start playing?”

A couple people were starting to trickle in, mostly familiar faces drawn in by the Wednesday evening happy hour special: $2 Dark ‘n’ Stormies until 10pm. Sombra was behind the bar, already fixing up some drinks.

“Give it like twenty minutes?” Gabriel suggested. Jack nodded and rested the guitar carefully on the chair. 

Twenty minutes later, Gabriel was mixing drinks behind the bar with Sombra, making small talk with some of the customers he knew. He liked the fact that his bar was far enough away from campus that it wasn’t really frequented by students; it meant he could really get to know some of the neighborhood crowd a bit better, rather than catering to an endless flood of college kids whose faces he never learned. Sure, it would have been nice to have that steady stream of income from newly minted twenty-one year olds looking to get wasted as often as possible, but at the same time, he didn’t have to deal with fake IDs and fines nearly as much.

He turned around to grab a clean glass and nearly missed the first note of music as Jack started playing. A couple of people quieted down, but Jack struck a good balance between being audible but not overpowering. He started off with a cover, some classic songs that were fun but not disruptive. He was… okay, Gabriel had to admit it. He was good. Ana and Sombra had been right about him.

Sombra elbowed him gently in the side as she passed. “Told ya,” she smirked. Gabriel glared at her before glancing back at Jack. He was smiling gently as he played, seemingly lost in his own music, and Gabriel felt his heart stutter. Fuck. He was such a sucker for musicians it was almost embarrassing. 

Most of the bar applauded at the end of Jack’s set, and Gabriel saw a flush rise up on his cheeks as he smiled and waved at the crowd. Gabriel quickly set down the glass he was washing and walked over to Jack.

“That was awesome!” he exclaimed, and the flush on Jack’s cheeks seemed to deepen.

“Ah, thanks for the opportunity,” Jack said, carefully packing his guitar away. “I’d love to play another night, if you want.”

“I’d love to make this a regular thing, actually,” Gabriel said. “Maybe once a week or once a month or something, whatever works best for your schedule. We could start advertising live music, too, to draw more people in. And I’d love to talk with you more about your music, when you have a chance.”

“Oh,” Jack said, blinking at Gabriel. “Uh, yeah, should I coordinate with Sombra about this--”

He cut off as a slim arm draped itself around Gabriel’s shoulders and a kiss was pressed to his cheek. “Welcome home, Gabe,” a familiar voice said, and Gabriel turned with a radiant smile to hug the woman behind him.

“Amélie!” He wrapped his arms around her. “You didn’t tell me you were going to be here tonight!”

Amélie brushed part of her long, dark hair over her shoulder and gave him a small smile. “I didn’t think I’d be able to make it, but the tour was pushed off for another week.” She turned towards Jack, still with one arm across Gabriel’s shoulders. “And who is this? You didn’t tell me you were hiring someone new, Gabe.”

“I’m Jack,” he introduced himself, hoisting his guitar case over his shoulder. There was something suddenly… closed off about him, Gabriel thought, but he couldn’t pinpoint it. “A friend told me that Gabriel was looking for some part-time live music and thought I’d be a good fit.”

“I only heard a little bit, but you sounded wonderful,” Amélie said.

Jack smiled, genuine and sunny. “Thank you,” he said. “Hopefully I’ll be back soon, though we’ll see what my work schedule looks like.”

“Here, let me get your phone number,” Gabriel said, sliding his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll text you some possible dates, and you can let me know, yeah?”

A look flashed across Jack’s face for just a moment before it was gone. “Yeah, that works.” He pulled his own phone out, and they exchanged numbers quickly. “Alright, I’ve gotta get to work, but it was great to meet you. Both of you,” he said, nodding at Amélie, who gave him a small smile in return. And then he was out the door like a fire had been lit under him.

Amélie looked up at Gabriel, one of her perfect eyebrows arched. “You’re incredibly unsubtle,” she commented, and Gabriel looked at her, confusion flashing through him.

“What are you talking about?”

“ _Let me get your number,_ ” she said, her tone teasing. “I know your type, Reyes. You have it bad already.”

Heat flashed through Gabriel, but he grinned at her and stuck his hands in his pockets, trying not to fidget. “Can you blame me?” he said. “Even you have to admit he’s pretty cute.”

Sombra snorted from behind the bar, and Amélie rolled her eyes. “Sometimes, you can be incredibly obtuse,” she said.

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing,” she said, flipping her hair over her shoulder again before going over to the bar. Sombra automatically filled a wine glass for her as the two of them started chatting. 

***

“Why didn’t you tell me you knew the owner! And that he was _hot_!” Jack hissed into his phone. He could practically hear Ana smirking over the line.

“You wouldn’t have gone if you knew,” she said, and Jack cursed her under his breath. “Sounds like you know I’m right.”

“I didn’t say that!”

“So when are you playing there again?” she asked. 

“Next week, probably,” he said, rubbing a hand down his face. “I have to look at my schedule for the hospital and figure out what will work with my shifts.”

“That should be easy. And tell me you don’t feel better already, after just one night of playing.”

Jack sighed. She was right _again_. He felt way better, like a knot of tension he hadn’t even known was there had disappeared from between his shoulder blades. The words didn’t feel completely unblocked yet, but he had an idea for a poem, which was more than he’d had all summer. “Yeah, alright, fine. It helped.”

“That’s really good to hear, Jack.” Ana’s voice was sincere, and Jack felt like the world’s biggest asshole. She was trying to help her best friend feel better, and all he’d done was complain to her about it. 

“Thanks, Ana,” he said quietly. “I’ve gotta run to my shift at the hospital now. Lunch tomorrow?”

“I’ll be there,” she promised. “Have a good night. Be safe.”

“You, too,” he said, and hung up. He leaned his head back in his car, staring up at the roof. He needed to text Gabriel with his schedule as soon as possible. _Fuck_ , he was hot, strength in every line of his body, with the most beautiful dark brown eyes Jack had ever seen. Jack had caught himself staring more than once while he’d been playing, taking in the lines of Gabriel’s face, the cut of his cheekbones, his perfectly trimmed and well-maintained beard. And he’d been so nice, too, welcoming and clearly attentive to his customers, laughing and joking with them throughout the evening. Oh, god, he had the worst crush already and he’d known the man all of three hours. 

Not that it mattered, because it’s not like Gabriel was available. Jack sighed and closed his eyes, remembering the kiss Amélie had pressed to his cheek, the way he’d looked at her with such delight in his eyes. How close they’d stood to one another while talking with him. She was also absolutely stunning, elegant curves with a dancer’s strength. And she’d been so nice to him, even though he’d been (in his mind) obviously infatuated with her boyfriend.

He sighed again and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. They’d looked perfect together, and were clearly happy. Which meant Gabriel was off-limits as hell.

That was fine. Jack could deal with that. His raging crush would calm down soon. He just had to get his shit together.

Sitting back upright, he turned his car on and made his way over to the hospital. Maybe he’d be able to scribble something down during the shift tonight. Something that _didn’t_ mention bar light reflected in warm brown eyes.

***

Jack’s raging crush did not calm down.

It was just… Gabriel was incredible. He was funny, and charming, and interesting, and just so _nice_ to Jack. When Jack had texted his schedule to him after that first night, Gabriel’s message had ended in several excited emojis, which was cuter than it had any right to be.

And it just kept going. They’d worked out a semi-regular schedule of Jack playing at the bar once or twice a week, depending on shift requirements. Gabriel was always there when Jack would arrive to set up, and then they’d chat over a drink or two (often just water for Jack) before he’d start playing. Jack learned that Gabriel had opened the bar three years earlier, specifically choosing the opposite side of town from the university so he could cater to the rest of the population and create a stronger bond with his customers. His favorite color was red. He liked reading literature that had strong psychological horror tones to it. He’d studied engineering in college (which was how he’d met Ana), but then decided to go into bartending and owning his own bar instead because, as he put it, he preferred being his own boss and setting his own schedule than having to answer to someone else. His favorite holiday was Halloween. He’d grown up in Los Angeles, and still had a lot of family living out there. He liked watching basketball. His favorite food was his mother’s _buñuelos_ , and every time he went home, he’d bring back a big basket of them and share them with Sombra. He could be intense and concentrated, but had a wicked sense of humor and was quick to laugh around Jack. 

In return, Jack had told Gabriel more about himself than he usually shared with people he’d known for less than five years. Gabriel heard all about his shifts at the hospital, his aunts back in Indiana, his cooking adventures, his first boyfriend. Jack told him about his graduate program; his struggles with trying to produce consistently excellent writing. How playing at the bar helped him unwind, work past some of his writer’s block. Gabriel had watched him with dark eyes the day he’d told him that; had put a hand on Jack’s shoulder and squeezed it comfortingly. “Whatever I can do to help, just let me know,” he’d said.

Jack watched helplessly as his feelings for Gabriel grew deeper and deeper the more they got to know one another. Every night he left the bar, he’d give himself a stern lecture in the car on the way to the hospital. _Gabriel is your friend. That’s it. He’s with Amélie. Get over yourself, and do it quick._

The lectures never worked.

***

“Hey, there you are!” Gabriel greeted him, smile stretching wide across his face as Jack walked into the bar. “Was wondering when you’d get here!”

Amélie and Sombra waved at him from where they’d been deep in conversation across from each other at the bar. Jack waved back, hitching his guitar higher on his back. An unfortunate nervous tic he’d developed, he realized. “Hey, Gabe. Sorry I’m a little late, had to stop for gas on the way over. I was down to like, ten miles left in the tank.”

“You should be careful about that, _cherie_ ,” Amélie said. “It would be bad if you ended up stranded somewhere without gas.”

Jack smiled at her. He’d also become good friends with Amélie and Sombra, getting to know them more and more as he’d played at the bar. They were both incredibly smart, and Amélie had a quiet but sharp sense of humor that often sent everyone listening to her into tears of laughter. “I know, I’ve just been super busy this week. Normally I don’t wait so long to fill up.”

“If you ever get stranded somewhere, you can always call me,” Gabriel said. Jack looked at him sharply, but Gabriel seemed absolutely sincere. “Seriously, I mean it.”

“Thanks, Gabe,” Jack said, a small lump forming in his throat. “You, too. Just let me know.”

“Thanks.” Gabriel gave him a small, soft smile. Jack couldn’t look away; he tried to hoard every smile Gabriel gave him.

Sombra rolled her eyes. “We get it, you two have cars. Jack, do you know any AC/DC covers? Can you play one of those tonight?”

***

“Great job tonight.”

Jack looked up from where he was packing his guitar away. Gabriel was standing over him, holding a beer in his hand. “Oh, thanks!”

“Do you have time for a drink right now? Or you got another night shift at the hospital?”

Jack checked his watch. It was only a little after 8pm. “Technically I’m doing the overnight shift tonight, so I don’t have to be there until 11pm or so,” he said. “I was gonna go home and try to nap a bit, but I’m feeling pretty keyed up at the moment. I guess… I could do a half-pint, maybe? Or maybe just some water, actually.” He laughed and scrubbed the hair at the back of his neck.

Gabriel lit up. “Awesome! I’ll go get you a drink, go ahead and sit down, I’ll be right back.”

It was another quiet evening at the bar, so Jack sat down at one of the tables in the back area, close to where he’d just been playing on the stage. Gabriel sat down across from him a moment later, pushing a glass of ice water with a lemon wedge towards him. “Oh, I love lemon, thank you,” Jack said, taking a refreshing sip.

“Of course.” Gabriel seemed to preen slightly. He took a sip of his own beer, watching Jack. “So when did you start playing guitar?”

“A long time ago. Back before I joined the army, at least. Sometime during high school, I think? Like, maybe my junior or senior year?” He squinted, trying to remember the first time he’d picked up a guitar, held it in his hands. “But I didn’t really start playing until I was a year or two into service. One of my former squad members, she had this beat-up piece of shit guitar that was always out of tune for basically everyone but me. I had the magic touch with it, for some reason. So they’d all make me play it, even though I was pretty bad at first. But it was nice, to just sit around with them and play and talk.” He stared off into the distance, remembering. 

“You were a soldier?”

“Yeah. Well, a combat medic, technically. I thought I wanted to be a doctor when I was in high school, but my family didn’t have the money to send me to college right away. So I thought, hey, that’s fine, I’ll join the army and get a bunch of medical training there, and then go to school. But by the time I finished, I didn’t want to be a doctor anymore.”

Gabriel nodded slowly, digesting Jack’s words. “So that’s why you’re an EMT on the side?” he asked.

“Pays the bills, what can I say. Or at least, pays better than being a poet does at the moment.” Jack laughed softly.

“What was the first song you learned?”

“Oh, god,” Jack laughed again, louder this time. “You’re never going to want to speak to me again after I tell you this.”

“What? That’s not true!”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, I promise! What was it?”

“Wonderwall.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“Nope.”

Gabriel stared at him. Jack tried to desperately keep from breaking out in peals of laughter. “You are so lucky I made a promise just now, and that I never break a promise.”

Jack started laughing, and couldn’t really stop.

***

Gabriel whistled lowly as Jack walked into the bar. “Looking good today, Jack,” he said. Jack felt his cheeks heat up.

“Uh, thanks,” he said, suddenly painfully aware of just how he looked. It was laundry day, so he was wearing the pair of skinny jeans he only put on when he had literally no other pants to wear, along with a fitted button-up top. He’d rolled the sleeves up to his elbows, and had his glasses on because he’d worked a double shift the day before and his eyes were killing him. “I know, I look like the quintessential hipster douchebag.”

“You do,” Gabriel agreed, “but you pull it off really well. Those pants do good things for you.”

“Uh,” Jack said. His brain was apparently extra-crispy fried today. _He’s dating someone!!!_ he tried to yell at himself, but his mind was still stuck on the idea that Gabriel had checked out his ass. 

Gabriel looked at him expectantly. His mouth was hanging open, shit. Oh god, Gabriel was going to figure out that Jack had a completely inappropriate crush on him, that he thought about his thighs several times a day, that he daydreamed about kissing--

Thankfully, Sombra popped up from behind the bar. “Gabe, we’re out of limes,” she said, saving Jack’s moronic ass from certain humiliation. “Our supplier forgot them this morning. Again.”

“Shit,” Gabriel cursed, and flew out the door, yelling over his shoulder about stupid fucking idiot suppliers and how he was going to shove his foot up every single one of their asses one of these days.

***

“Oh my god, I look like a 70s gay pornstar,” Jack said, staring at his reflection, horrified. Ana cuffed lightly on the shoulder.

“You look good!” she said, slightly adjusting the terrifying handlebar mustache she’d attached to his upper lip. It looked kind of like it was planning on growing out to the sideburns glued to the side of his face and taking over his whole head like some sort of man-eating tribble. 

“What’s wrong with looking like a gay pornstar?” Reinhardt, Ana’s boyfriend, rumbled from further inside the apartment. “This will make things easier for you tonight, no?”

“Not with this look, probably,” Jack said, adjusting jumpsuit he’d stuffed himself into earlier in the evening. “Why did I think this was going to be a good idea, I look like Mark Spitz dipped in peanut butter!”

“Shut up, you look fine,” Ana said, and she started putting on her own makeup. “Go help Rein put beers in the coolers. There’s ice in the freezer.”

Reinhardt was dutifully loading beer into several different coolers in Ana’s kitchen, his large frame comical in the small room. There was terrifyingly large broadsword leaned up against one of the walls: Reinhardt was dressed as a knight in what looked to be _very_ historically accurate gear. “Looking good, my friend!” he said as Jack entered, pushing a couple of cases towards him. “I appreciate your assistance with this.”

“No problem,” Jack said, and started layering beer and ice in one of the few empty coolers. Ana’s Halloween party was something Jack wouldn’t miss for the world. It was the best way to unwind mid-semester, and he was hoping to maybe meet someone and get his mind off of Gabriel for a bit. Although with the costume Ana had chosen for him, he wasn’t so sure that was going to happen.

As the party got underway, Jack relaxed more and more. There was plenty to drink, some snacks, and the costumes were all super fun. Or at least, Jack _was_ relaxed until Gabriel walked in looking like the goddamn king of Halloween.

“You didn’t tell me you invited Gabe!” Jack hissed in Ana’s ear, more than a little tipsy.

“Why would I?” Ana frowned at him. The parrot on the shoulder of her pirate costume was looking a little worse for the wear as the party grew larger and larger. 

Jack gaped at her, but couldn’t think of a valid reason that wouldn’t disclose his still-pathetic crush on Gabriel. “Never mind,” he said, and promptly turned around to try to throw himself into the dancing crowd, where he would hopefully be crushed to death.

Luck was not on his side that evening, however, as Gabriel found him soon after. “Jack!” he exclaimed over the heavy music, gleaming. Fuck, he looked resplendent in an orange and black suit, draped in a black cape that swirled behind him. His hair looked slightly sweaty and mussed -- like someone had been running their fingers through it? Jack’s heart clenched in his chest.

“Hey, Gabe,” he said, trying to keep any tightness out of his voice. “Didn’t realize I’d see you here. Shouldn’t you be at the bar?”

“Nah, Amélie offered to run it with Sombra tonight so I could come to Ana’s party this year. I’ve always missed it in the past, but I’m glad I could make it this time!” He shifted, revealing a large fake carved pumpkin with a menacing face carved into it and a hole for his head. Ah, that explained the mussed hair, Jack supposed.

“Your costume is amazing.” Jack gestured at him. “Is that pumpkin handmade?”

“Whole thing is handmade by yours truly,” Gabriel said, a note of pride in his voice. Jack’s eyes widened in surprise. 

“Holy shit, really? That’s amazing! I had no idea you could sew!”

“Yeah, I’ve been making costumes for a couple of years now. It’s kind of a side business of mine. Speaking of which, you look great tonight, too.”

Jack burned hot with embarrassment. “This, uh, this wasn’t my idea,” he mumbled, taking a deep sip from his drink. “I know, I look a gay pornstar who drowned in peanut butter.”

“Hey, maybe some people are into that.” Gabriel’s eyes glinted as he spoke. Jack felt his heart speed up in his chest. 

“Well, not really so far,” he said. “I’ve mostly just been getting a few laughs here and there, maybe a couple of Evel Knievel references.”

Gabriel’s glance drifted down and seemed to linger on the open V of Jack’s chest, the oversized star of his belt buckle. “Their loss,” he murmured, stepping forward slightly. The press of the crowd around them was strong, and they were nearly chest-to-chest now. “Don’t know what they’re missing.” Jack’s breath caught, painful and wild in his throat. They were staring at each other, and he couldn’t look away.

“Jack! Could you assist me with this cooler?” Reinhardt’s voice called over the throng, breaking Jack out of his reverie. Gabriel blinked as well, a slight scowl passing over his face as they came back to themselves. 

“Yeah, just a sec!” Jack called back, his voice strained. “Sorry,” he said, then turned around and certainly did not run over to where Reinhardt was switching out empty coolers for fresh ones filled with more beer. _Girlfriend girlfriend girlfriend,_ Jack chanted in his head, focusing on moving the heavy containers around. _Be better than this, you have to._

When he turned back around, Gabriel had disappeared into the crowd.

***

_There is so much I could say_  
_if you were to ask me._  
_A litany that burns within me even now,_  
_flames scorching my stomach,_  
_my throat; some might say this is_  
_desire. That this is longing._

_I could say it is more than that._  
_Deeper, richer, fertile like dark loamy soil_  
_underneath the farmer’s hands,_  
_dirt under his fingernails as he digs through it,_  
_unleashes the power within it to_  
_grow a family, build up a life._

_My hands could comb through and find_  
_pieces of you intertwined, woven in_  
_to the fabric I drape myself in. Covering_  
_myself in you like a blanket, like_  
_the stars. Threads that cannot be broken,_  
_twisted tight until my fingers turn blue._

_And it rises in me again, a brightness_  
_that incinerates everything else, that immolates_  
_me in your glory, that I cannot have._  
_I swallow against it, and my teeth crumble to ash,_  
_and my breath turns to steam to fill me._  
_I long for cool earth, but will not dig._

***

“I am losing my goddamn mind,” Gabriel whined, definitely not drunk in his own bar in front of his employee and his best friend. He took another sip of the whiskey he’d poured himself. “There’s something there, I know there is! But I feel like I’m going crazy, because every time I think something might happen, or one of us is finally going to say something, boom! Nothing! He runs away, or, or something happens and he has to leave.” He sighed, letting his forehead rest against the cool wood of the bar. It felt good against his overheated skin. Maybe he could fall asleep here.

Silently, Sombra switched out his drink for a glass of water, sharing a look with Amélie, who was sitting on the barstool next to Gabriel. “Have you actually said anything to him?” she asked. “Like, about being into guys?”

Gabriel rolled his head so he could glare up at her with one eye. “I would think it’s pretty fucking obvious,” he said. 

“He might need more than a hint, _cherie_ ,” Amélie said, rolling her eyes. “He seems very,” she paused, searching for the right word. “Conscientious,” she decided.

“You can say dense, it’s okay,” Sombra laughed.

Gabriel lifted himself up and glared at both of them. “So, what, I’m just supposed to say, _Hey, just so you know, I’m a huge bisexual, how are you today?_ the next time I see him?”

Sombra laughed and started wiping down the bar. “Probably couldn’t hurt.”

“He’s scheduled to play tomorrow night, right?” Amélie asked. “Why don’t you just talk to him tomorrow, either before or after he plays?”

Gabriel stared at her for a moment, his brain parsing her words carefully. “Yeah,” he said finally. “That’s… yeah, good idea. He doesn’t have a shift at the hospital tomorrow night. We can talk after he plays. I’ll ask him to stay.”

“Glad that’s settled.” Sombra pushed the glass of water towards Gabriel. “Drink up, lover boy, don’t want to be hungover for your big day tomorrow.”

Gabriel groaned as the world spun around him, but he took a sip.

***

Jack stared at his phone, trepidation making goosebumps steal over his skin as he sat in his car, guitar in his backseat. He read the message over and over again, trying to figure out what the real meaning behind it was.

From: Gabriel Reyes, 3:47pm >> Hey, you don’t have a shift at the hospital tonight, right? Do you mind sticking around for a bit after your set?

What was Gabriel _not_ saying in this message? _Oh god, he knows_ , Jack thought, panic welling up in his throat. _He knows, and Amélie knows, and they’re either going to let me down easy or tell me to get lost and stop being such a fucking creep._

But then why would Gabriel still want him to play tonight? Maybe he wanted to talk to Jack about the music; maybe he’d found someone more talented than Jack, who had a more regular schedule, could bring in more people. His eyes felt hot and prickly at that thought, but he couldn’t blame Gabriel if that was the case. This had always felt like it was better for Jack than it was for Gabriel in the first place, and he couldn’t deny that singing at the bar had done wonders for his stress level over the past few months. His writing had also improved drastically; several of his professors had even commented on it. 

And he’d had endless inspiration in Gabriel. 

It would suck to give that up.

He took a deep, calming breath and closed his eyes, trying to center himself. It was something he’d been working on with Ana, and he found it particularly useful in these quiet moments where he felt overwhelmed. Whatever was about to happen, he would be fine. It might hurt at first, but he’d be okay.

He got out of the car, shouldered his guitar, and walked inside. Gabriel and Sombra were right where they always were, prepping the bar for the evening. Amélie was sitting at a nearby table, a glass of wine next to her, reading a slim paperback. It looked like every other night Jack had walked into the bar, and he smiled. “Hey, guys,” he said, and they all looked up, Sombra shooting him a wave. 

“Did you get my message?” Gabriel asked, and there was a strange sort of energy about him, a restlessness Jack hadn’t seen many times before.

“Yeah, no problem,” Jack said, trying to maintain his carefully fought for calm. “I’ll just pack up my stuff when I’m done and then we can talk.”

Gabriel shot him a thumbs up. “Thanks, sounds good to me.”

The rest of the evening happened like every other night Jack played: he set up, he chatted with Sombra and Amélie for a bit, he played, he felt tension leave his body. Gabriel worked behind the bar, serving drinks and talking with customers. There was nothing on his face that betrayed what he wanted to talk to Jack about. 

As he finished packing his equipment back into his car, Jack turned around to find Gabriel behind him, scaring the shit out of him. “Christ, Gabe, don’t do that!” Jack said, clutching a hand to his chest. “How the fuck do you move so quietly?”

“Sorry,” Gabriel laughed. “Hey, do you mind if we go somewhere else to talk? Sombra said she’d clean up for the night for me, and what I want to talk about is kind of private.”

Jack frowned, but nodded. “Okay, sure. Where do you want to go?”

It was cold out, the mid-November evenings deepening into winter chill as the nights grew longer. “Let’s go back to my place, it’s not too far from here,” Gabriel said. “There’s plenty of street parking around it.”

“Oh,” Jack said, his heart starting to stutter in his chest once again. “Sounds good. Hop in, you can give me directions.”

The ride to Gabriel’s apartment was mostly spent in silence, with Gabriel just giving one or two directions every few minutes. By the time they parked, Jack nearly couldn’t take the tension that had grown thick and suffocating between them. 

“Look,” he said, turning towards Gabriel in the car. “I’m sorry, okay? I know I haven’t been the most discreet person about… about you, and I’m trying to be better about it, I promise.” Gabriel didn’t say anything, just stared at Jack with these huge, surprised eyes, and Jack hurried to fill the silence. “You’re just… you’re incredibly attractive, and a really amazing friend, and--”

He was cut off with an indignant noise as Gabriel leaned over and kissed him, his lips soft and slightly chapped against Jack’s own. His beard scratched wonderfully against his face, and Jack closed his eyes for half a moment, sinking into the kiss, euphoria swirling through him, _he was kissing him, Gabe was kissing him, it was everything he’d dreamed it would be!_

One of Gabriel’s large, capable hands came up and cupped Jack’s face, and the touch sent reality crashing back down around him. Jack pulled away with a horrified gasp, panting in the dark car. “What are you doing?” he whispered, and Gabriel frowned at him.

“You don’t want this?” he asked, and he sounded… hurt, for some reason.

“No!” Jack hissed. “I mean, I do, but I’m not that kind of person!”

Gabriel looked at him in confusion. “You’ve told me about your ex-boyfriends. I know you’re gay, Jack.”

A delirious laugh bubbled up in his throat. “No, not that! I mean, yeah, I am gay. But that’s not the point, the point is that you’re dating Amélie, and I’m not _that_ kind of person! I’m not going to come between you just because--” his mouth stumbled, trying to protect himself from revealing the depths of his feelings in such a vulnerable moment, “--because I think you’re hot!”

Something flashed in Gabriel’s eyes, some modicum of hurt that was immediately wiped away as understanding replaced it, and then Gabriel was laughing, and reaching for Jack again, pulling him into another kiss. “I’m not dating Amélie,” he said, laughing against Jack’s mouth. “We’re just really good friends. Known each other for years. She’s like… a little sister to me, sometimes. I haven’t really been into dating anyone for a while, actually.”

“What?” Jack asked. His brain felt vaguely like it was melting out of his ears. “But I thought…”

“God, no,” Gabriel said. He kissed Jack again, harder this time. “This explains a lot about the past few months.”

“Y-yeah.” Jack tried to focus on Gabriel’s words, but it was hard when kissing him felt so good. Desire flared within him, and he unclipped his seatbelt, turning to angle the kiss, sliding their mouths together, opening his mouth to taste Gabriel. He wanted to crawl across the console and into Gabriel’s lap, slot themselves together like they weren’t both in their thirties and presumably past the dry humping stage of things.

“Do you want to come up?” Gabriel asked, breaking the kiss to look at Jack. Fuck, he was beautiful, his hair messy from Jack’s hands, moonlight limning his frame. 

“Yeah,” Jack said, breathless. He couldn’t think of anything he wanted more in that moment.

Well, okay. He could think of a few other things, but they were all pretty contingent on getting into Gabriel’s apartment first.

They fumbled up the stairs, pausing several times to push each other against the wall and kiss for endless minutes, until some noise would pull them apart and they kept going. Gabriel had found the spot on Jack’s neck that made his knees go weak, and had taken to kissing and sucking it whenever he had the chance. 

Jack didn’t even glance at Gabriel’s apartment as soon as they got inside; he pushed Gabriel against the wall next to the door and slid to his knees, looking up at the man above him. Gabriel sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes wide, but his fingers curled through Jack’s hair. “Yeah,” he murmured, and Jack made short work of sliding down the zipper of his jeans and pulling them down his thighs. 

Gabriel’s cock was mostly hard already, the outline of it pressing against his boxers. Jack breathed over it, his breath humid and warm, a grin stretching over his face as he heard Gabriel’s head thump back against the wall behind him with a groan. “Do you have a condom?” he asked, hooking his thumbs in the waistband of Gabriel’s underwear and pulling them down as well, exposing his hard cock to the air.

“Just a sec,” Gabriel said, using his grip on Jack’s hair to move him away, and it was Jack’s turn to groan as the slight pain tingled across his scalp. Gabriel kicked off his pants and underwear, leaving them pooled on the ground next to Jack, and walked over to what he presumed was Gabriel’s bedroom. Rising, Jack followed after him, shucking his shirt and pants as well. 

Inside, Gabriel held up a condom for Jack’s inspection. There was a pillow lying by the side of the bed, and Jack flashed Gabriel a smirk when he saw it. “That for me?” he asked.

“Unless you have something else in mind,” Gabriel said, sitting down and spreading his knees open on either side of the pillow. His cock was thick and heavy, the head already a little shiny, and Jack felt his mouth water. His own cock twitched in his underwear, filling out between his thighs as he knelt down on the pillow. He watched as Gabriel rolled the condom onto himself -- quick, no frills -- and then a hand was in his hair again, guiding him down.

Jack opened his mouth readily, closing his eyes at the first feel of Gabriel on his tongue. Yeah, the taste of latex and lube was chemical and sharp in his mouth, but the heat and weight of his cock more than made up for it. He moaned softly, pressing down, trying to get as much of it into his mouth as he could. Gabriel was _big_ , the head bumping up against the roof of Jack’s mouth as he sucked, tongue laving underneath the shaft. Gabriel’s fingers curled tighter in his hair as Jack bobbed his head, applying slight pressure that heightened Jack’s arousal, curling through him. 

“Shit,” Gabriel breathed above him, shifting slightly so he could spread his legs wider. Jack responded by pressing down even further and swallowing, fighting down his gag reflex. It had been a while since he’d last done this, but fuck, Jack loved it. Loved the feeling of thighs trembling beneath his hands as he sucked them down, breathing through his nose as he bobbed his head, the heat in his mouth. The pleasant ache in his jaw. 

Gabriel’s hand curled a little tighter, not really forcing Jack up or down, but just guiding. Jack moaned again, one of his hands going to his own cock and stroking it, pulling his boxers down enough to expose it to the air of Gabriel’s bedroom. “Fuck, you like this,” Gabriel groaned as he realized what Jack was doing, and Jack nodded as best he could with Gabriel still in his mouth. Gabriel’s other hand pressed against Jack’s shoulder, fingertips rubbing against the skin there, his breaths coming faster and faster.

Jack ripped his head back, looking up at Gabriel, one hand wrapped around the base of his cock, just holding him there. “Come on,” he panted, knew he looked wild, red-cheeked and spit-slicked, but he didn’t care. “Come in my mouth.” He took Gabriel back in, relaxing his throat to take as much of him as he could, moaning around him. His own hand stilled on his cock, concentrating on Gabriel.

The hand in his hair tightened even more, and Gabriel moaned again, louder this time. Jack felt him pulse into the condom, heat filling his mouth, and he sucked him through it, letting Gabriel come down slowly. When he hissed, oversensitive, Jack carefully pulled away, removing the condom and tying it carefully. His own dick was still hard, and Jack took himself in hand again, stroking quickly, letting his head drop to Gabriel’s knee as he breathed heavily, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Fuck, Jack,” he heard Gabriel say, and then those hands were on him again, pulling him up and onto the bed, laying him across it and removing his underwear. One of them pushed Jack’s hand out of the way, gripping his cock tightly, moving up and down just the way Jack liked it. Then Gabriel’s face appeared above him, kissing him, and Jack groaned into his mouth, knowing he tasted like rubber and bad lube, but Gabriel didn’t seem to care, just kept jacking him, hard and quick, and Jack couldn’t last any longer. He came with a quiet sigh into Gabriel’s hand, biting Gabriel’s full lower lip softly, pleasure pulsing across his body.

Gabriel kissed him one last time, full and deep, before pulling away to clean up. Jack lay on the bed staring up at the ceiling, his heart thudding away wildly in his chest. He only moved when Gabriel came back with a wet cloth, wiping at the release on Jack’s stomach.

“Fuck,” he said, unable to think of anything else. 

Gabriel laughed. “You said it.” He laid down next to Jack. “You wanna stay the night?”

Jack rolled over onto his side, looking at Gabriel. He was still flushed and sweaty, but his eyes were bright and there was a smile on his face, and Jack’s stomach swooped dangerously even as sleep suddenly threatened to overtake him. 

“Yeah, sounds good,” he said. “I have class at ten tomorrow.”

“I’ll set an alarm.”

“Thanks,” Jack said, his jaw cracking as he yawned in the middle of the word. Gabriel chuckled softly, but turned off the light. Jack couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer, and he felt himself drift off slowly, comfortably.

***

Waking up the next morning was difficult. Jack opened his eyes, disoriented. That wasn’t his normal alarm. This wasn’t his room. What was -- oh, right.

His heart stuttered oddly in his chest as he turned over, then fell as he realized Gabriel wasn’t in bed with him anymore. There was noise from somewhere else in the apartment, and what smelled like something cooking, though, so he couldn’t have gone too far. 

Jack dragged himself out of bed, cleaned up a bit in the bathroom, and put his clothes from the night before back on. He scrubbed a hand through his hair, knowing it was sticking up weirdly, but there wasn’t much he could do about that right now. 

“Morning!” Gabriel said as Jack appeared in the kitchen. He was wearing just a pair of boxers as he stood in front of the stove. There was a plate of scrambled eggs on the counter. “I know you need to leave soon, but feel free to eat as much as you want before you head out.”

“Thanks,” Jack said, surprise curling through him. This was more than he’d been expecting, honestly. He took the plate of eggs and sat down at the small table in the corner of the room. The eggs were fluffy and delicious, and how had he not realized how hungry he was until just this moment?

Gabriel sat next to him a moment later with his own plate of eggs, and they ate in companionable silence for a moment. 

_Should we talk about it?_ Jack wondered, sneaking a glance at Gabriel, who looked pretty engrossed in his breakfast. _What is this going to change?_

_I haven’t really been into dating anyone for a while._

Jack froze as those words filtered back into his memory. Fuck. Right, Gabriel had said that last night, and Jack had kind of glossed over them in the heat of the moment. So, okay, he probably wasn’t looking for anything too deep with Jack. That was fine. Jack could do that. He ignored the strange stabbing sensation in his midsection. He could do friends with benefits, or just hooking up, or whatever. That worked.

“So, about last night,” Gabriel said, and Jack stood up abruptly, banging his knee on the underside of the table. 

“Sorry, I gotta run or I’ll be late to class,” he said, trying not to wince.

“Oh, okay,” Gabriel said, looking a little bewildered. “Do you have everything?”

“Yup, I’m good! Thanks for, for breakfast and stuff. This was awesome. I’ll, uh, see you Tuesday night? At the bar?”

“Yeah, sure.” Gabriel paused a second. “You sure you don’t want to hang out before then?”

Jack swallowed carefully. “Yeah, whatever works for you. Text me?”

“Of course,” Gabriel said. He followed Jack to the door. “Hey,” he murmured, putting a hand on Jack’s shoulder and turning him to face him. He pressed a kiss to Jack’s lips. “See you later.”

A helpless smile grew across Jack’s face. “Yeah. See you later, Gabe.”

Oh god, he was so fucked. But in that moment, he didn’t really care.

***

_I feel your fingertips on me when you’re not there,_  
_an absence made so much worse because I know_  
_what it feels like to have, to hold._  
_Even when your skin is next to mine,_  
_it feels like there are miles between us,_  
_an ocean without depth, waves tossing_  
_me about with nothing to hold on to._  
_And I want to reach out my hand,_  
_and know that yours will catch it, and_  
_drag me to shore; to you._  
_Instead, I keep kicking._  
_Hold my head above water._  
_Hope that a brief touch will be enough._

***

As the semester wound down, Jack found himself spending more and more time at Gabriel’s place, working on papers and revisions. Winter had officially broken over the town, and Gabriel spent most of his time inside, grumbling about how cold it was while Jack laughed at him.

“You running back to sunny LA for the holidays?” he teased one night while Gabriel bitched about the snow that had fallen that day.

“Fuck yeah, I am,” Gabriel said. “Gonna go back where it’s civilized and _warm_ all year round, instead of freezing my ass off here for Christmas. What about you?”

“Ah, I’m going back to the frozen wasteland of Indiana for a few days,” Jack admitted. He pressed save on the paper he was working on. “I’m not really looking forward to it. Well, I am, but I know my aunts are going to ask me three million questions about what I’m planning to do after I graduate.” He sighed and pushed his glasses up his nose. “Which is fair, I guess.”

“What are you planning on doing?” Gabriel asked, but there was no judgement in his tone, only curiosity. “Gonna run off into the woods and be a reclusive poet? Live off of twigs and berries and write all day?”

“God, no,” Jack laughed. “I don’t know. I mean, I technically have a job here. I could just… keep on keeping on, you know?”

Gabriel watched him, his eyes quiet and dark. “But you don’t want that,” he said, and Jack had to look away.

“No,” he said, just as quiet. “I know I want to do more with my poetry. I just… I don’t know what, yet.”

“Have you thought about a PhD program?”

“Huh?” Jack looked back at Gabriel, surprised. 

Gabriel shrugged. “I’m pretty sure there are poetry PhD programs out there, for people who want to teach poetry, right? You like helping people, you like writing poetry… I know it’s not the same _type_ of helping that you’re used to, but I think you’d enjoy it. I think Sun Valley has one of those programs, right? Maybe you could ask some of your professors about it, see what they think.”

Jack glanced at his paper, a little dazed. “I guess it couldn’t hurt,” he said, slow. Considering.

Gabriel came up behind him, draped his arms over Jack’s shoulders. “Definitely not.” He pressed a kiss to the side of Jack’s head. “Are you done yet? I’m bored. There’s nothing to do with all the snow, most of the city is closed.”

Jack laughed and shut his laptop, putting it to the side. “Nothing to do?” he asked, twisting to kiss Gabriel properly.

“Well, maybe I can think of something to do,” Gabriel grinned. “Or somebody, at least.”

“That was terrible.”

“Did it work?”

Jack laughed again and stood up. “Maybe. Not sure how I feel about being your last resort to alleviate your boredom.”

Gabriel kissed him again, hungry and wet this time, and Jack moaned as he bit down on Jack’s lower lip, twisting it. A hand snuck underneath Jack’s shirt, pinching a nipple at the same time, and he jerked in Gabriel’s arms. 

“Believe me, you’re nowhere near my last resort,” Gabriel said, his voice hoarse, eyes bright with a promise that made a shiver run down Jack’s spine. 

“Prove it,” he said with a smirk, watching Gabriel’s eyes dilate at the challenge.

The next thing he knew, he was pushed up against the window of Gabriel’s third-story apartment, looking down at the darkened, snow covered street below. The glass was cold against his suddenly-overheated skin, but Gabriel was warm behind him, pressing up against his back, holding Jack in place. “Hands on the glass. Keep them there,” Gabriel instructed, his voice making Jack’s stomach swoop pleasantly inside him. He hastened to comply, pressing his palms against the window, watching the way his breath fogged against it. The street was empty at this time of night, the snow keeping most people inside, but Jack knew he was perfectly visible from here, that if anyone decided to go for a nice snowy stroll they could look up at any moment and see him pressed against the glass with a growing erection.

“Look at all that snow out there,” Gabriel said in his ear, his tone light, conversational. His lips brushed lightly against his earlobe, a barely-there touch punctuated by the leg suddenly pressing between his thighs, spreading them apart from behind. Jack had to go slightly up onto his tiptoes to remain upright with how far he had to open his legs. “I guess we could go outside if you wanted.” There were hands at his waistband now, trailing along the top to undo his button and slide down the zipper. “Build a snowman, have a snowball fight or something.”

Jack snorted and rested his head against the cool glass. “You nine years old again, or something?” he teased, pressing back against the hard line of Gabriel’s dick that he could feel against his ass. 

“Definitely not,” Gabriel said, sucking a kiss to the bolt of Jack’s jaw. He pushed Jack’s pants and underwear down his thighs, let them drop to his ankles, and Jack struggled for a moment to kick them off his feet. “Just pointing out all the things we _could_ be doing to deal with boredom.” One hand wandered up Jack’s chest to pinch and twist his left nipple, the other hand smoothing down his body, bypassing his dick completely to grip his thigh instead. 

Jack groaned, trying to press his hips upwards in the hopes of getting _some_ sort of friction against his cock. The hand on his thigh slapped him lightly, the sting shocking through him enough to make him stop. “No moving,” Gabriel said, sucking another kiss to the back of Jack’s neck. Fuck, he was going to be hickey central back there thanks to the vampire act Gabriel was putting on. 

“Gabe, please,” he said, not caring how whiny he sounded for a moment. “Stop teasing!”

The leg between his own disappeared, and Jack nearly stumbled backwards without the support, but Gabriel brought his hands to his hips, holding him up. Jack felt his face flare red, but he missed the pressure of Gabriel’s thigh on the underside of his cock, pressing against his balls. He groaned, took a hand off the glass to twist around and kiss Gabriel.

Gabriel bit down on his lip, harder than usual. “Ow!” Jack said, the sting more than he was expecting. Heat flared down his body, zipping into the spot beneath his belly button.

“Thought I told you not to move your hands,” Gabriel said, sucking on his own lower lip, trying to conceal a smirk. Jack glared at him before slowly turning back towards the window and replacing his hands. “Better.”

“C’mon,” Jack said, sticking his ass out behind him. “You gonna do something or what?”

“Hey, I’m trying to make this last, fill up more time before one of us gets bored again,” Gabriel laughed. “Or do you want this to go too quickly?” His actions betrayed his words, thankfully, as Jack felt a hand smooth down his back, following his spine until it rested just at the very top of his ass. 

Jack tried to suppress a shiver but failed, and Gabriel laughed lowly, pressing back up against him. “If you don’t get a move on, maybe I will go outside and build a snowman -- oh!” He broke off with a yelp as Gabriel spanked him, once, his cock jerking against his belly at the sensation. His hands twitched against the glass, but he didn’t move them.

“Interesting,” Gabriel murmured, and he didn’t say anything else, just ran his hands back up Jack’s sides, fingertips sliding over skin and muscle, like he was memorizing Jack inch by inch. And then his hands were gone, and he stepped away, leaving Jack’s back cold. “Be right back. Don’t move.”

Jack heard him open and shut the door to his bedroom. He huffed out a breath, shifting on his feet a little bit as he tried to decide if listening to Gabriel was worth it or not. 

Just as he was about to move, the door opened again. “Good,” he heard Gabriel say, and then there was the unmistakable click of the bottle of lube opening. Gabriel stepped up behind him again, and he must have taken off his clothes in his room, too, because all Jack felt was skin on skin.

“Finally,” Jack said, shaking his hips again, desire flaring within him. “You ever heard of the law of diminishing returns, Gabe? You draw this out too long, and maybe _I’ll_ get bored.”

Gabriel pressed another kiss to the back of Jack’s neck, his lips curving into a smile. “Can’t have that,” he agreed, and Jack felt a wet finger circling him, pressing lightly against his entrance, exploratory. “Good thing I know when to cut my losses.” 

The finger pushed in, slow, and Jack sucked in a breath through his nose. Gabriel’s other hand was on his hip, holding him in place, and Jack’s arms trembled minutely as he kept them extended against the window. Gabriel’s finger moved gently within him, stretching him slowly, thoroughly, until Jack’s breathing had sped up, his hands now clenched into fists on the glass. He trembled as it stroked lightly over his prostate, just enough pressure to send white-hot bolts of pleasure zipping to his toes. Fuck, Gabriel knew how to play him like a goddamn fiddle, and they both knew it.

“Gabe,” he said, trying to ignore the thread of desperation that was trying to weave its way into his voice, “please.”

“What?” Gabriel asked, like he had no idea what Jack was asking for. “What do you want, Jack?” He slipped his finger out, and Jack clenched his jaw.

“C’mon, give me more,” he said, knew he was pleading, but if that was what it took--

Two fingers slid into him, twisting and stretching him, and Jack gasped, locking his elbows to keep from banging his head against the window. “Fuck, Gabe,” he breathed, and he could feel Gabriel’s breath on the back of his neck, humid, panting. More affected than he let on. Jack turned his head, hiding a smile in the crook of his elbow, and shifted his legs slightly wider. He was rewarded with a third finger, the stretch making his cock pulse, and fuck, he wanted to get a hand on it so bad, but he wasn’t supposed to move. His hand twitched against the glass, and Gabriel’s fingers withdrew abruptly. 

“What’d I say?” Gabriel asked, and Jack could hear him putting a condom on, the telltale sounds of him slicking his cock. “No moving.”

“Can’t even touch myself?” Jack asked, grinning wildly as Gabriel smacked his ass again.

“No. But maybe I will, if you’re good.”

“I think I’m being pretty damn good--” he cut off with a groan as he felt Gabriel push into him, the thick head of his cock spreading him open, stretching him even more than his fingers had. “Fuck,” he said, and he let himself crumple against the cold glass, focusing on the slide of Gabriel inside him, the heat and sensation of being filled overwhelming him for a moment. He couldn’t figure out what to focus on: the way Gabriel moved into him, slowly but inexorably, heat flooding his whole body; or the way the window felt against his front, cold like diamonds, goosebumps rippling across his skin as he pressed himself against its surface. They swirled in his mind, hot and cold, jumbling across his body, and he clenched his fists, clenched his body around Gabriel, watched the way his breath fogged up the glass beneath his cheek. 

“Fuck, Jack,” Gabriel said behind him, his hips flush with Jack’s ass finally. “You feel--” he pulled out nearly all the way, and Jack couldn’t believe how empty he felt, then thrust back in, hard, the way Jack liked. “You feel so good. So fucking good.”

“Same,” Jack mumbled, his tongue too big for his mouth, wanting more. Needing more. Gabriel’s hands were on his hips, holding Jack as he drove into him over and over again, but Jack wasn’t supposed to move, wasn’t supposed to take his hands off the window. “Please,” he said, tipping his head back onto Gabriel’s shoulder, his eyes searching out Gabriel’s, pleading. “Please.” He opened his mouth slightly, pushing his tongue out. 

Gabriel’s eyes lit up as understanding crashed through him, and he groaned, his clean hand coming up to press two fingers into Jack’s mouth. Jack closed his lips around them, sucking and licking while Gabriel fucked him. He could feel his orgasm building in the pit of his stomach, his thighs shaking. But he needed more. Needed Gabriel.

He gasped as he let the fingers slip from his mouth, only for a moment, only so he could say, “Touch me, please, Gabe, need it,” and then he sucked Gabriel back down again, laving them with his tongue. Gabriel buried his face in Jack’s neck, but his hand crept around to take hold of Jack, fingers wrapping sure and tight around him, just the way Jack liked. His palm was calloused but soft, and he stroked Jack quickly, sure, deft movements of his hand that ended with a little twist around the head. It only took a couple of strokes before Jack lost it, coming into his hand, a few spurts landing against the window, cry lost to Gabriel’s fingers on his tongue.

A couple more thrusts and Gabriel followed him over the edge, driving himself deep into Jack and stilling. There was the sting of teeth in his shoulder, Gabriel biting him as he came, and Jack shuddered, clenching around him. They stayed like that for a long moment, both of them coming down from the high, breaths panting in unison in the silent winter air.

“Worth the wait?” Gabriel asked as he pulled out of Jack.

Jack laughed, and turned to kiss him. “You get to clean the window.” 

***

It was another quiet night on shift, the beginning of the new semester, and once again Jack wasn’t sure if he was happy about it or not. He stared at his notebook, tapping his pen idly against a poem he was supposed to revise for one of his classes. 

He couldn’t stop thinking about Gabriel. What they were doing. Neither of them had said anything about it; they just kept hooking up. Jack would text Gabriel when he didn’t have late shifts at the hospital. Gabriel would text Jack to see if he wanted to hang out, if he wanted to come over to Gabriel’s place. Those invitations inevitably ended in them fucking, which Jack wasn’t complaining about, obviously.

It was the other stuff that was getting to him. How Gabriel would also just text him throughout the day, sending him jokes, or random thoughts. Pictures of Sombra and Amélie at the bar. And Jack would respond, obviously, because Gabriel was still his friend. But every time he did, it felt like his heart was constricting just a little bit tighter inside his chest, his lungs tightening until it was hard to breathe.

He would sometimes spend the night at Gabriel’s place, just like that first time. But he didn’t really invite Gabriel over to his apartment at all; he needed somewhere that was just _his_ , where he could write and write and write and try to pretend he didn’t think about Gabriel every spare moment of the day. Most of his poems had taken on a slight edge of desperation and longing these days, though he was trying to ignore that.

Jack groaned and put his face in his hands. He was a fucking mess, honestly.

Lúcio wandered over from where he’d been talking to Lena. “Hey man, what’s up?” he asked. “Looks like your writing has been going a lot better lately.” He gestured at Jack’s poem covered in notes.

Jack sat back in his chair. “Yeah,” he sighed, “it has been, thanks. How are things with you?”

A smile spread across Lúcio’s face. “Well, I was just telling Lena, but I figured I’d tell you, too. I got into Sun Valley’s med school!” He was beaming in excitement, bouncing slightly on his toes. 

“Holy shit, congratulations! That’s amazing!” Jack said, standing up to hug him. “So you’re going back to school next year, huh? You ready for it?”

“I’m so ready, man,” Lúcio said. “They gave me a full-ride scholarship, too, which takes a lot of the pressure off, you know?”

“That’s incredible,” Jack said again, smiling. “You deserve it, you’ve been working your ass off for the past few years. So I guess this means you’ll be leaving us in a couple of months?”

“Unfortunately, yeah,” Lúcio grimaced. “That’s the worst part.”

“I mean, it sounds pretty awesome to me.”

“Nah, Jack, shut up.” Lúcio gave him a friendly push. “You and me, we like helping people. We don’t know what to do with ourselves if we’re not helping people. It’s going to be tough for me to adjust to being back in classes full-time, instead of out here with you all, making a difference.”

“Hey, you’ll be making a bigger difference than me in just a few years,” Jack protested. “And a way bigger paycheck, too.”

“Yeah, I know,” Lúcio said. “I’m just going to miss you guys, I guess.”

Jack smiled, understanding. “It’s not like you’re moving across the country,” he pointed out. “You’re still going to be in town. Besides, I have a feeling you’re going to miss my cookies more than you’ll miss me.”

“Well, you said it first…” Lúcio said, laughing as Jack mock-pouted at him. “But you’re right, I’ll definitely come see you guys. You’ll just have to text me when you’re on shift and I’ll swing by if I can.”

“Definitely. Maybe I’ll even let you know when I bring cookies.”

“Man, you’d better!” Lúcio laughed, and Jack couldn’t believe how happy he was for him. “I’m gonna go tell a few other people. I’ll talk with you later, yeah?”

“Definitely. Go bask in your own glory. You deserve it.”

As Lúcio walked away, Jack turned back to his poem. Melancholy crept up over him again, and he hated himself for a moment. He had so much going right for him: what did it matter if Gabriel didn’t want him the same way Jack did? 

He needed to learn to live with it, and move on.

***

“I’ve gotta head out a bit early today,” Gabriel said, catching Jack’s hips in his hands. “The store next door to the bar has been having wiring issues, so I asked an inspector to take a look at my place and make sure it doesn’t affect us.” He nuzzled the side of Jack’s neck as he said it, his beard scratching pleasantly against the sensitive skin there.

“I’m still playing tonight, right?” Jack asked, trying not to laugh at the sensation. He was pleasantly sore at the moment, the backs of his thighs burning a little from the way Gabriel had stretched him out last night and pounded into him until he’d had Jack nearly sobbing from the pressure and angle against his prostate. 

“Yeah, of course,” Gabriel said, pressing a kiss to a mark on Jack’s shoulder. “See you there?”

“Of course,” Jack echoed, turning around and pressing a kiss to Gabriel’s lips. He smiled.

He arrived at the bar at his normal time. “How was the inspection?” he asked Sombra, who was wiping down the bar.

“Ah, it was fine. We’re going to have to get some work done here, too, but he said we’re operational for now. Gabe’s working on setting something up right now, to make sure we’ll be up to code as soon as possible.”

“That’s annoying,” Jack said, and Sombra rolled her eyes.

“Tell me about it. At least he didn’t shut us down or anything, but it’s still a little worrying.”

“I’m sure Gabe’ll get it all figured out soon.” He laid out his guitar and started tuning. Gabriel came out of the small office he kept in the back, looking slightly harried, but he broke into a smile when he saw Jack.

“You don’t have a shift tonight, do you?” he asked, and Jack saw the glint in his eye, knew what he was really asking.

“Not tonight,” he grinned. “I can stay for a drink or two afterwards, if you want.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Gabriel winked at him. Jack winked back, and the two cracked up laughing.

***

Jack was halfway through his set when he smelled smoke for the first time. He paused in his strumming, glancing with a frown around the bar. It was more full than usual tonight, people out and about as the weather started to get nicer, the thrall of winter lifting as spring set in. Was someone smoking out on the patio? No, it didn’t smell like cigarette smoke--

The fire alarm started blaring just as one of the lights hanging from the ceiling burst into flames, which spread out across the ceiling rapidly, eating up the dark, dry wood in hungry spurts. Jack jumped out of his seat, people screaming and shouting in confusion. The fire raced along the ceiling and down the walls, the antique wood decor the perfect fuel for it to consume. 

“Out! Everybody out!” Jack shouted, focusing on making himself be heard above the din. He forced his way through the panicking crowd to the front, shouldering the heavy door open and ignoring the sparks that floated down from the ceiling and burned themselves out on his skin. The bar was filling with smoke rapidly as the fire raged, and he could hear the faint sound of fire truck alarms racing through the town in the distance.

Through the thickening smoke, Jack could see Gabriel standing at the back door, guiding people out towards the back patio and then the alleyway beyond, pointing them towards the street where they would be safe. Sombra was right there with him, and Jack could see her fighting to remain calm.

There was a crash from inside, and more screams. One of the heavier lights had fallen from the ceiling, along with flaming wooden beams. Jack grabbed one of the heavy barstools and propped the door open before racing inside, his instincts kicking into search and rescue mode. 

There was a young man underneath the fallen light, his ankle twisted strangely beneath him. He looked slightly dazed, but wasn’t burned. 

“Hey,” Jack said, his voice calm. “Just keep breathing, I’m going to get you out of here, okay?”

The young man looked up, his eyes glazed over in pain, but he nodded. Jack nodded back, and carefully lifted the debris off of him, trying to ignore how the smoldering wood stung his palms. “My name’s Jack, what’s your name?” he asked, trying to keep the man focused.

“Dylan,” he said, sucking in a sharp breath as Jack accidentally jostled his ankle. Definitely broken. Jack grit his teeth.

“Hi, Dylan. I’m going to pick you up and take you outside, okay?” 

Dylan nodded, and Jack scooped him up easily. The air above them was filled with smoke at this point, and breathing was more difficult than he expected. “Hold the bottom of your shirt over your nose and mouth,” he told Dylan, then took off, trying to move as fast as possible without hurting the young man anymore than necessary. Dylan did as he was told, his body tense and shaking in Jack’s arms.

By the time he got outside, several fire trucks and ambulances had showed up, which was a relief. Jack dropped Dylan off with one of the emergency workers before looking around. He felt kind of shaky, like it was harder to breathe even in the clear air outside. It looked like everyone was out of the bar--

He couldn’t find Gabriel.

Sombra was standing off to one side, speaking with a firefighter. Jack stumbled up to her, panting. “Where’s Gabe?” he asked, head spinning.

“I thought he was with you!” Sombra said, looking around wildly. “He said he was going to help you inside--”

Jack was already running back towards the bar, ignoring the shouts from the firefighters and EMTs behind him. What was the point of all his training, all his knowledge and skill, if he couldn’t do this? If he couldn’t find Gabriel?

The entire bar was up in flames as Jack re-entered, smoke choking the air with thick black clouds that made his eyes water as soon as he stepped inside. “Gabriel!” he shouted, trying to listen for anything over the roar of the fire, any clue as to where Gabriel was. But there was nothing. “Gabriel!” he called again. His skin felt stretched too thin from the heat, and he coughed, wheezing as he inhaled smoke accidentally.

_The office,_ he thought wildly, _maybe Gabriel went into the office after he couldn’t find me inside._

He ran towards the back of the bar, only the barest sliver of common sense left within him ensuring that he tugged his sleeve over his hand before putting it on the metal knob of the office door. It was scalding hot even through the fabric, but Jack grit his teeth through the pain and pushed it open. Billowing clouds of smoke escaped from the inside, blinding him for a moment, but there was Gabriel, lying on the floor. Unconscious.

“Gabe!” Jack yelled, eyes streaming. It was hard to see, hard to breathe. But here was Gabriel, and it was Jack’s job to get him out. To take care of him. “C’mon,” he panted, his palm leaving bloody handprints on Gabriel’s shirt as he wrested him into a fireman’s carry, “I’m gonna get you out of here. C’mon, stay with me, Gabe.” He began staggering to the door, every breath feeling like the fire had jumped into his lungs, burning him from the inside out.

That was fine. As long as he got Gabriel out. As long as Gabriel was okay.

He felt Gabriel stir in his hold, and he tightened his grip. “Ja--? Wha--?” he heard, a faint whisper. 

“I’ve got you,” he wheezed, avoiding a burning chair. Fuck, this was devastating. Gabriel’s whole world, gone just like this. “C’mon, we’re getting out of here.” 

The door seemed so far away, Jack’s vision narrowing down until he was focused only on it, darkness blacking everything else out. Gabriel struggled a little in his grip, and Jack staggered a little bit. “Jus’ stay with me,” he begged. “Please, jus’ stay still. Let me get you outta here. I love you, Gabe. Won’t leave you behind.”

“Ja--k,” he heard Gabriel say, and he started struggling more, but it didn’t matter, because they were at the door, and Jack was pushing through it, fire at his back, and god, he was back there, wasn’t he, the IEDs had just gone off, blood streaming down his face as he listened to the screams of his squad around him, smoke and flames and blood and sand--

“Jack!” he heard someone shout, but it didn’t matter, he couldn’t breathe, could only cough and convulse on the ground, his whole body burning, when would it end when would it end when would it end?

There was a hand on his face, and Jack struggled to look up, he could feel his heart pounding weakly in his chest. He waited for Sutton to appear above him, or maybe Yang, but it was neither of them.

It was Gabriel’s face, soot-streaked, his hair a mess, eyes wide and panicked. He was moving. Breathing. Which meant Jack had done his job. He smiled up at Gabriel, something small, just for him. He could see Gabriel’s lips forming his name. And then his vision went dark, and so did Jack.

***

“I thought I went over this with the police already,” Gabriel growled into his phone. “The fire department ruled it an accident caused by faulty wiring that was identified in the store next door!”

The woman on the other end of the line remained frustratingly unruffled. “Yes, sir, we received the official report from them the other day. However, our policy states that we are required to conduct our own official investigation, to rule out any possibility of insurance fraud.”

“I don’t know what the hell you all plan on investigating, the place burnt to the ground,” Gabriel said.

“Our investigative teams are highly skilled at identifying causes from even the most damaged remains.”

“Why the hell has it taken you all nearly three weeks to contact me about this, then? Won’t the remains by compromised by now, or whatever? We had a hell of a rainstorm last week.”

“Nonetheless, sir, it is part of our policy. If you wish to receive any insurance compensation from the plan you purchased from us, you will need to comply with our procedures.”

Gabriel growled again, running a hand through his hair and nearly tearing a piece of it out. “Fine. When can I make an appointment.”

“One of our agents will contact you within the next two weeks to schedule an appointment time.”

“What the fuck! You mean _you_ can’t schedule an appointment right now for me? Why the fuck are you calling me, then!”

“Please do not use that language with me, sir. I was simply calling to inform you of our company policies and procedures, and to ensure that you agreed to cooperate with them.”

“This bar was my _life_ ,” Gabriel yelled into his cell phone, not caring that he was probably disturbing his neighbors. “It was my _job_. You are keeping me from working, from moving forward! All so you can see if you can keep a little bit of the _thousands_ of dollars I paid for my insurance policy with you all, you fucking pieces of shit!”

“Sir, if I have to tell you again to not use that language with me, you will not like the consequences.”

“I’d better get a phone call to schedule a fucking appointment in the next _day_ , or so help me, I will not stop calling you until I do,” Gabriel hissed, then hung up the phone. He was breathing heavily, anger coiling through him as he looked at his apartment. It was in total disarray. Just like his life. Dishes were piling up in the sink; laundry was scattered across the floor; his fridge was empty except for boxes of takeout and leftovers. His bed was unmade, he could barely remember the last time he had vacuumed, and the trash desperately needed to be taken out. It was horrifying to look at, and Gabriel knew he didn’t look much better. He’d been having trouble sleeping; whenever he closed his eyes, all he could think about was his bar up in flames, everything burning to ash inside. The suffocating heat as it had closed around him. The certainty that he was going to die. And then Jack’s face, appearing above him, hauling him out of there.

Jack, collapsing next to Gabriel outside, his breathing shallow and uneven. Jack’s lips, mouthing words Gabriel couldn’t hear. Jack’s eyes, closing, before Gabriel was pushed out of the way by the EMTs.

Gabriel collapsed on his couch, face in his hands. He felt like a fucking asshole. He hadn’t gone to see Jack at _all_ while he’d been in the hospital, too tied up with the police, the fire department, and now the insurance agency to make it over during visiting hours. Hell, he hadn’t even had a moment to _text_ Jack and check in on him, see how he was doing. But it wasn’t like Jack had texted him, either. Maybe he didn’t want to see Gabriel. After all, it was his dumb ass that landed Jack in the hospital with smoke inhalation in the first place, since he had run back in to rescue Gabriel.

Fuck, why had Jack _done_ that? Risked his life for Gabriel like that? It wasn’t… there had been trained professionals there, firefighters who were properly equipped to run into burning buildings and save people. Jack had been wearing a regular shirt and jeans, for fuck’s sake. Just because he was an EMT didn’t mean he could deal with a _fire_ of that size. He could have _died_ saving Gabriel.

A strange sort of anger welled up in him when he realized that. How could Jack have done that? _Why_ would he have done that? They were just… they were _friends_. Who slept together kind of frequently. Not that Gabriel wouldn’t mind being more, but Jack had never said anything, or given any indication that he was interested… 

Whatever, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that Jack had nearly died. Was Gabriel being rational? Probably not. But he didn’t fucking care. He felt like he was standing on the edge of a precipice, screaming out into a void that gave nothing back. That at any moment, he would topple over and be lost forever.

There was knock at his door, and Gabriel jolted up, heart pounding. Who the fuck was trying to see him? He’d told Sombra to fuck off about a week ago, after she and Amélie had tried to sit down and talk with him about shit he didn’t want to talk about. Like the fact that he wasn’t returning their phone calls.

He stood up and stalked over to the door, ripping it open with more force than necessary. “What,” he growled. He was doing a lot of that lately.

Jack stood on the other side.

Gabriel took a step back in surprise, and Jack raised his hand in greeting, a little sheepish.

“Hey, Gabe. Can I come in?” His voice sounded even raspier than before the fire, which Gabriel hadn’t thought possible. He looked… okay. Parts of his hands were bandaged, the skin that was showing pink and shiny. Where his hands had gotten burned, Gabriel’s brain supplied. He moved a little more carefully, a little more slowly, like it pained him to walk.

_He could have died_ , a part of Gabriel’s mind whispered. _He could have died because of you._

“Sorry for showing up out of nowhere,” Jack said, walking inside Gabriel’s apartment. Gabriel shut the door behind him. “I wanted to see how you were feeling, and Sombra said--”

“Why were you talking to Sombra?” Gabriel cut him off. The strange anger was building inside of him again, and he couldn’t stop it, even though part of him wanted to.

But there was another, larger part that didn’t want to stop it.

Jack held his hands up like he was trying to placate him, but that only made Gabriel angrier, heat rising up his throat as he stared at the bandages on Jack’s hands, choking him. Reminders of how close he’d come to losing Jack. 

“She came to the hospital and told me you were really busy--” Jack tried to say, but Gabriel cut him off again, the implicit failure in Jack’s words wrapping around him like a snake, crushing him. _Sombra checked on me, and you didn’t. Sombra didn’t almost get me killed. Sombra cares about me more than you do._

“You nearly _died_ , Jack!” he exploded. “To do what, to save me? Why? It’s not like we’re together, we just fuck sometimes, but that’s it. You don’t get to--” he choked on his words, trying to figure out what to say without overexposing himself. It was so hard; all he wanted was for Jack to understand how _terrified_ this had made him, how frightened he was to realize the depth of his feelings for Jack, and to know Jack didn’t feel the same way about him. He swallowed against the lump in his throat, painful and unyielding. “You don’t get to do things like that, not for me,” he whispered, and his eyes felt hot and dangerously itchy.

“Gabe,” Jack said, and his face was ashen, drained of all color. His voice hurt Gabriel’s ears, thready and scratchy and destroyed.

“No, Jack,” Gabriel said, feeling too thin, perforated. It was all too much; what was he supposed to do? Nothing made sense. “Just leave.”

Jack looked like he was going to say something, his mouth open, throat working, but nothing came out. He snapped his mouth shut, turned on his heel, and walked out. The door banged shut behind him.

Gabriel sat on the couch again, head in his hands. Next to him, his cell phone rang. The insurance agency was calling.

***

Jack was on his third bottle of whiskey by the time Ana picked the lock to his apartment.

“Hey,” he said, grinning up at her from the floor. “Wan’ a drink?”

Ana looked around the room, nose wrinkling at the smell, taking in the mess. There were beer bottles lying haphazardly around the room, a few of them spilled in stinking puddles on the floor, most of them empty. Half-eaten boxes of food littered the table. The TV was on, playing the QVC channel. It looked like they were selling some kind of fancy lotion at the moment. There was a smashed bottle of vodka on the floor, pieces of glass not cleaned up. And papers.

Sheets and sheets of torn up, crumpled, scribbled on paper, flung all around the apartment.

“No one’s heard from you in a week, Jack,” she said. “One of your _classmates_ reached out to me to see if I knew what was going on.”

Jack’s cheeks burned, but he poured himself another glass of whiskey and threw it all back. It had stopped burning as he drank it. Or maybe it still burned, but he just didn’t noticed. Everything was burning, right now. “Jus’ been here,” he slurred, making himself sit up. The world rolled and his stomach rolled with it, and he puked on the floor. “Fuck. I’m sor’y, Ana.”

“Oh, Jack,” he heard Ana say, and it sounded like she was far away now. “What happened?”

“‘S nothing,” he said. Oh, he was on the floor again. When had that happened? “I’m jus’ stupid. ‘S fine.”

The world spun again, and he nearly puked again. Oh, Ana was holding him upright. “You’re strong,” he said, and laughed, but it turned into a burp. It tasted like sour whiskey. “Di’n’t know you were so strong.”

Ana didn’t say anything, just marched him into his bathroom. She pushed him into the shower and turned it on. It blasted cold water in his face, soaking him and his clothes immediately. Jack sputtered and nearly slipped on the wet tiles. She watched him for a moment and then, satisfied he wasn’t going to drown in the spray, stepped into his bedroom. Jack watched her go, confused, his whiskey-logged brain too slow to process what was happening.

She stepped back in the room with one of his old t-shirts and a ratty pair of basketball shorts. “Strip, and change into these,” she said shortly, turning off the shower before disappearing back into the bedroom again. Jack did as he was told, his hands shaking as he slipped the t-shirt over his head and pulled the shorts on. He walked out into the bedroom when he was done. There was a glass of water on his nightstand, and Ana was sitting on his bed, scrolling through her phone. She looked up as he entered, and pointed at the water, and then at the bed.

“You’re going to drink that, and then you’re going to sleep. And when you wake up, we’re going to have a talk,” she said. 

“What, no tea?” Jack tried to joke, but Ana’s face told him she was having none of it, so he sipped the water slowly before climbing into bed. The world spun wildly around him still, and he tried to take deep breaths to stop it, squeezing his eyes shut. A cool hand stroked through his hair, and Jack felt twin tears slip from beneath his eyelids and streak down his face. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. 

“Shhh,” Ana shushed him, and Jack fell asleep like that.

***

The first thing Jack did upon waking up was throw himself into the bathroom and puke into the toilet. His head was pounding wildly, and it felt like someone had tap-danced vigorously on his spine the night before.

“Good morning,” Ana said from behind him, and Jack groaned into the cool porcelain. “Feeling better today?”

“No,” he groaned. “Please just shoot me.”

“Don’t be such a baby,” Ana said. She placed a glass of water and a couple of ibuprofen next to him. “Here, take this. We need to talk.”

Jack groaned again. “Please, Ana. Can’t you see I’m dying?”

“You’re not dying, you’re fine. Hurry up and finish throwing up. I have a lab I have to supervise at four today.”

Fifteen minutes later, Jack had drank half the water, taken the pills, brushed his teeth, and felt marginally more human. Ana was in his kitchen, reading a medical journal and eating toast. She looked up as he entered.

“So,” she said.

“So,” Jack said back. He knew he was being obnoxious, but he couldn’t help it.

“What was all that about?”

“What was what about?”

Ana sighed and put down her journal. “Don’t be an asshole with me, Jack. What was last night about. Why haven’t you been responding to anyone for the past week? I know things have been difficult since the fire, but there are people who want to help you--”

“Difficult since the fire?” Jack said, cutting her off. “Difficult? You have no fucking idea. I’m _three weeks_ behind in my classes, Ana. My thesis is due in a month and a half, and I couldn’t do anything for it while I was in the hospital. I left my guitar in the bar, and it’s gone now, and I can’t afford a new one, not with my medical bills right now.” He held up a hand, no longer bandaged, but covered in dull pink scars. It was shaking; not a lot, but visibly shaking. “I can’t sleep right, every time I close my eyes all I can see are the flames again, and then I’m back in the desert with the IED, but it’s not my dead squad members around me, it’s _Gabriel_ , Ana, do you get it? It’s _Gabriel_.” He closed his eyes, breathing ragged as he tried to push back the tears that threatened to spill. He had to stop fucking crying, it was getting pathetic. 

“Oh, Jack,” Ana said, putting a hand on his arm. “Have you gone and talked with him? I know you two were close.”

Jack gave a short laugh, more of a sob than anything else. “I tried. You know, he didn’t come see me while I was in the hospital? But Sombra told me he was busy dealing with the investigation into the fire, so I thought, _Oh, that’s fine. I’ll just go see him._ So I did. I wanted to make sure he was okay. I stopped by his apartment, and he told me to leave. I think he realized just how much I--” His breath hitched, and the tears started, and he couldn’t stop them, could never stop them, no matter how hard he tried. “And I get it, it’s not like we were… like we were together or anything, but oh god, Ana, I love him, I love him so much, why did he tell me to leave, I love him--”

“Jack,” Ana said, her voice pained. She wrapped her arms around him in a hug, and Jack sank into it, unable to stop himself. “Were you and Gabriel…?”

“We were hooking up,” Jack admitted.

“How long?”

“For a while. It started like a week after your Halloween party.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“What was there to tell?” Jack tried to wipe his eyes, but more tears appeared. “It was just sex. Gabriel made it pretty clear he wasn’t interested in anything more, and I wanted to respect that. So I didn’t push for anything.”

“Did he say that to you?”

“I mean, not in so many words, but I’m a poet. I know how to read between the lines. I thought he was dating Amélie at first, so I never made a move, and then when he told me he wasn’t, he said that he ‘wasn’t really into dating anyone for a while.’”

Ana stared at Jack, a look of incredulity crossing her face. “Sometimes, you can be the densest person on the planet,” she declared.

“What! What does that mean!” Jack exclaimed.

“Actually, I think you and Gabriel are both tied for biggest idiot. I’m guessing Gabriel never brought up the idea of dating with you, either, am I right?”

“... Yeah. But so what?”

She rolled her eyes. “What if both of you were waiting for the other person to bring it up, because neither of you wanted to make yourselves vulnerable like that? Did you ever think of that?”

Jack floundered, trying to come up with a rebuttal. “But -- I --” he stammered, failing miserably.

“You need to go talk to him again, Jack. Later, when you’re both feeling better and less stressed. Gabriel’s whole life burned down in that bar, and it nearly took you with it. Even if he doesn’t feel the same way about you that you feel about him, how would you feel if one of your friends nearly died while saving you?”

Jack looked away, unable to meet Ana’s eyes. “Awful,” he said quietly. 

“Exactly. Give Gabriel and yourself a little space to breathe right now. You both need it. Get back on your feet first.” She gave him a small smile, fitting her hand to his chin and lifting it up to face her. “You have courses to finish, and a thesis to write. Time to buckle down, yeah? Let your friends help you. That’s what we’re here for.”

He smiled back at her, small and trembling, but a smile. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Thanks, Ana.”

***

_I ask you questions you won’t answer,_  
_because you tell me you can’t._  
_The words don’t exist; maybe they never have._  
_No human mouth has ever_  
_plucked those sounds from air,_  
_still shaking in the moonlight, new and_  
_clean and right._  
_And I’m begging, and there’s no words,_  
_just noises, terrified, and you won’t_  
_look at me. Like I’m_  
_already gone. And now we’re speaking different_  
_languages, a tower between us, blocking_  
_the sun, the wind, the noise._  
_“Do you want anything I have?”_  
_A shout unheard, unspoken, undone._  
There’s nothing to be said,  
_now._

***

While he knew, objectively, that Ana was right, Jack didn’t try to contact Gabriel again after getting back on track at work and at school. He didn’t have a guitar anymore, and his voice was still horrifically scratchy and gravelly, which wasn’t pleasant to listen to at all. What did he have to offer Gabriel anymore? Not much, that was sure.

He tried to focus on his coursework, his thesis, his job. His coworkers made sure he was okay; anytime they were called to a fire, Jack remained in the ambulance to treat people there, instead of getting closer to the flames. He was sleeping better, but every once in a while he would wake up in a sweat, the image of Gabriel’s bloody face lit by red-orange fire haunting him. On those nights, Jack would give up on sleep and try to write instead.

Try to write Gabriel out of him.

It didn’t work.

***

“He’s not here, _cherie_ ,” Amélie said, sitting down next to Gabriel with a sigh. He jerked in surprise, spilling part of his beer onto the table in front of him.

“Where the hell did you come from?”

“Sombra and I saw you come in,” she said, gesturing to Sombra a few tables over, who waved back at them. “Jack’s not here. I don’t think he’s ever performed here.”

“Who says I’m looking for him?” Gabriel said, trying not to slump down in his chair in disappointment. 

“It’s not hard to figure out. We’ve seen you at four different bars in the past two weeks, all of them on nights when they’re advertising live music or open mics. You come in, you look all excited, and then become more and more disheartened as the night drags on without a sign of him,” Amélie ticked off on her fingers. “It’s rather predictable, actually. I thought I could expect better from you.”

Gabriel sighed and slumped down, giving up. “He’s gotta be at one of these things.”

“Did he say he was planning on auditioning at other bars? When was the last time you spoke with him?”

“Uh,” Gabriel said, rubbing a hand self-consciously over the back of his neck. “A couple of weeks ago. We may have had a fight.”

Amélie rolled her eyes, and Sombra took it as her cue to join them. “What kind of fight?” she asked, clearly having been listening in on their conversation.

Gabriel glanced away, looking at a girl who had just taken the stage holding a guitar. “A stupid one,” he muttered. “I yelled at him about nearly dying trying to save me.”

“Why would you do that?” Amélie asked, confusion flashing across her face. “He saved your life, shouldn’t you be grateful?”

“It’s not about that,” Gabriel hissed, leaning across the table towards her. “He nearly _died_ , Amélie, don’t you get it? God, I don’t think I’ve ever been so fucking scared in my entire life! And… and I couldn’t stop _thinking_ about it, that I nearly got him killed.” He took a deep breath, trying to keep his voice down and not alarm the crowd around him. 

“You got angry at him,” Sombra said, and she seemed pensive as she said it, looking at him like she was close to cracking some unknowable code. 

“Yeah,” Gabriel said, putting his face in his hands. “I blew up at him like a huge asshole. I… I want to say sorry. But I don’t want to do it over text or anything. So I’ve been trying to find him. I thought maybe… maybe he’d be at one of these places. He always said playing helped him de-stress.”

“His guitar burned in the fire,” Amélie said, her dark eyes sharp in the low light of the bar. “Didn’t you know that?”

“What?”

“Yeah, and I don’t think he has the money to get a new one any time soon,” Sombra said. She was silent for a moment, considering. “You’re in love with him,” she said finally. Knowingly.

“Is it that obvious?” Gabriel said, too tired to fight back. Yeah, he was in love with Jack. Had been for a while. It was a sharp kind of love, knowing that Jack didn’t want him the same way. That every time he’d tried to bring up the possibility of deepening their relationship, Jack had fled in the opposite direction.

“I know you pretty well, Gabe. And I’d probably be acting the same way you are if Amélie had been in danger.” _That_ made him sit up, looking between the two of them rapidly.

“Wait, you two are…?”

Amélie rolled her eyes again as Sombra giggled. “You can be sharp, but there are some things you’re completely blind to, aren’t there?” She and Sombra twined their hands together on top of the table. “We’ve been dating for several months now.”

“Why didn’t you two say anything?” he asked, frowning. “You know I would never--”

“It wasn’t because of you, or anyone else,” Sombra said, smiling softly at Amélie. “We just… we wanted it to be for us, for a little bit.” She laughed, and Amélie smiled back at her. “And we weren’t exactly subtle. But we weren’t making out in the back office every other Tuesday like a certain bar owner and grad student I know.”

“We only did that once!” Gabriel protested, heat sweeping through him. He thought he and Jack had been especially subtle that day. 

“Sure,” she drawled, smiling way too wide. But then her expression turned serious again, and she leaned forward on the table. “You need to go talk to him again.” 

“I know,” Gabriel sighed. “I told you, I’ve been trying to find him so I can--”

“No,” Amélie interrupted him. “You haven’t been trying to find him. You’ve been hiding. Ask Ana where he lives, and go speak to him. He’s graduating soon, and could move away before you know it. If you love him, Gabriel, really love him, are you going to let him just leave without knowing? You can be a fool sometimes, but I never took you for a coward.”

Both Gabriel and Sombra blinked at her, unaccustomed to such outbursts. Sombra recovered first. “She’s right,” she said, picking up Amélie’s hand again. 

“Fuck,” Gabriel said, his brain suddenly pounding. “You are right.” He felt incredibly tired, exhaustion sweeping over him like a blanket. “I… I’m gonna head out. Talk to you guys later?”

They both nodded. “Have a good night, Gabriel,” Amélie said, her eyes following him as he exited the bar.

Outside, Gabriel looked up at the night sky, the stars placid and still in the darkness. His eyes watered for a moment. He took out his phone.

_To: Ana Amari, 8:47pm >> Do you know Jack’s address? Can you send it to me?_

***

The door to Jack’s apartment was a weather-dampened red, looking out on the parking lot of his complex. Red solo cups and other debris littered the lot, evidence of a variety of graduation parties that had taken place the night before. The semester was over. Jack was done.

Gabriel stood in front of the door for ten minutes, trying to figure out the best way to knock. Maybe he should just text Jack, and tell him that he was coming over? Or maybe he shouldn’t talk to him at all, just write him a letter and leave it for Jack to find. 

_I never took you for a coward._ Amélie’s voice echoed in his mind, and he let out a rush of air. Right. He needed to do this. No matter what. Readjusting the package he held, he lifted his hand to knock, but the door was already swinging open.

“Whatever you’re selling, I’m not interested, unless it’s Girl Scout cookies,” Jack said, irritable, and then his eyes landed on Gabriel. He stepped back, shocked. “Oh. Uh, sorry Gabe. Thought you were a salesperson or something.”

Gabriel cleared his throat, everything he’d prepared himself to say flying out of his head immediately. “Sorry, no Thin Mints today. Can I come in?” he asked instead, his voice reedy with nerves. He lifted the large box in his hands. “There’s something I want to give you.”

“O-okay,” Jack said, his own voice shaky, and he stepped aside to allow Gabriel past, closing the door slowly behind him.

“You graduated yesterday, right? Congrats, that’s awesome,” Gabriel said.

“Thanks,” Jack said, slow, unsure. He stood across the small kitchen table from Gabriel. It was heaped in haphazard piles of paper, most of them with some form of writing on them. “Why are you here, Gabe? You didn’t just come to congratulate me on graduating. What’s going on? Why is that box so big?”

Gabriel swallowed. This was the hard part, the part that didn’t come naturally. “I came to give you something,” he repeated, gesturing at the package he’d set down. “And I… I also came to apologize. For what I said to you. For telling you to leave. For finishing what we had before it really even started.”

Jack shook his head. “You don’t have to apologize. We didn’t have anything. You were going through a stressful time, it’s okay. I wasn’t making things any easier, anyway.”

A wan smile stretched across Gabriel’s face. He felt like he might break in half at Jack’s words. Well, there was his confirmation. He couldn’t believe he’d even been holding onto a little piece of hope, but he felt it shrivel up inside of him. Jack didn’t want him like that. “Okay,” he said, and it was a sudden struggle to breathe, but he refused to cry. Not here. Not in front of Jack. “I mean, I’m still sorry. I’m glad I met you, Jack. You’re going to do amazing things when you leave here.” He started walking towards the door, ignoring the look of confusion on Jack’s face. “Oh,” he turned around for a moment, gesturing again at the package on the floor. “Keep it. It’s a graduation present from me to you. I hope you like it.”

Then he walked out the door. It swung shut behind him, closing with a bang. _Fitting_ , he thought with a snort. He drove back home, ignoring the wetness on his cheeks.

***

Jack stared numbly as the door closed on Gabriel’s retreating back, confused beyond belief by what had just happened. Why had Gabriel seemed so resigned? And what was that about Jack leaving town? 

He looked at the box on the floor, unsure if he actually wanted to open it or not, but curiosity got the better of him. Grabbing a knife from the block on the counter, he sliced along the cardboard seams carefully, steeling himself to reveal what was inside. Lifting the remains of the box away, he pressed a clenched fist to his mouth.

Inside was a guitar, a note slipped between the strings and the fretboard.

_Jack,_ it read, _Keep sharing your voice with the world. You deserve to be heard._

“You’re such a fucking sap,” Jack said out loud, a smile breaking across his face even as tears began streaming down his cheeks. “God, Gabe, you are such an amazing, wonderful loser.”

***

He knew the way to Gabriel’s apartment like the back of his hand. He sped along curves, barely stopped at stop signs, drove like demons were chasing him. A pile of paper bounced along unsteadily in the seat next to him, the guitar carefully placed in the back. Parking haphazardly, he grabbed the paper and the guitar and raced up the three flights of stairs to Gabriel’s door, knocking wildly on it, out of breath.

“Can I help you--” Gabriel yanked open the door, cutting himself off when he saw Jack. “Jack?”

Gabriel’s eyes were red-rimmed, his breath a little unsteady, and Jack felt his heart swell. “Can I come in?” he smiled, bright and sunny. Gabriel blinked and nodded, a little dazed.

Once inside, Jack placed the guitar case down, unclipping it reverently and lifting the guitar out. “Thank you,” he murmured, looking up at Gabriel. “It’s absolutely beautiful.”

“O-of course,” Gabriel said, confusion and apprehension warring on his beautiful features. “Jack, what are you doing he--”

“Take this,” Jack said, shoving the pile of papers at him. “They’re for you.”

“Jack, what--”

“Just listen, Gabe, okay? Please?” Jack closed his eyes and started playing.

_There’s a warm spot next to me,_  
_sheets still holding the shape of you, a memory_  
_I pull within myself, holding fast._  
_The night is so short, but every time_  
_it takes me so long to forget_  
_the shape of your hands on mine;_  
_a whisper of a memory that I cannot let go._  
_So many have sung about the ease of_  
_falling in love--_  
_they forget about the rising,_  
_the lift of heart into throat, of blood to_  
_face, of joy into the sky. Every night_  
_I circle higher towards you; every_  
_morning I gather the dreams and keep them_  
_within me. Selfish, and giving,_  
_my heart to your heart, your soul to mine._  
_To give you more and to ask for it in turn._

He’d memorized the words a long time ago, set them to music because how could he not? His voice trembled a little as he sang -- maybe he was too gruff for this now, voice too ragged and broken for this tenderness. But he couldn’t stop himself from playing for Gabriel. He couldn’t hold back the truth.

As he finished, he opened his eyes, trying to gauge Gabriel’s reaction. But Gabriel wasn’t looking at him, was instead flipping through the stack of paper in his hands, eyes growing wider and wider with every page.

Finally he looked back up at Jack, eyes shiny in the light. “Are these…?” he trailed off, holding up a piece of paper, Jack’s scrawled handwriting marching down the page.

“Yeah,” Jack said, putting the guitar down. “You’ve been, uh. A pretty big inspiration for me these past few months.”

_When I say his name, I feel a garden_  
_at my lips, my tongue blossoming, words_  
_like honey pouring from my mouth._

“I didn’t think you’d ever want something more with me, so I tried to write it out of my system. But I think the more I wrote, the more I realized I love you.”

_I hold my heart and it beats, too loud,_  
_a rhythm I did not expect, a song meant_  
_for you, louder and louder until it drives_  
_my blood through my veins, your voice_  
_racing through me, becoming._

Poem after poem filled with love, with longing. A language Jack had learned and could not stop writing.

“Why… why are you telling me all of this?” There was devastation writ large across Gabriel’s face, and Jack stepped forward, helpless. “Why would you tell me this right before you leave?”

“Who said I was leaving?” Jack asked, some strange mix of confusion and elation rising within him. “Why would I leave?”

Now it was Gabriel’s turn to look confused. “I mean, you graduated, didn’t you? What’s keeping you here?”

Jack laughed, relief bubbling over like an unwatched pot, and he embraced Gabriel, holding him tightly in his arms. He felt Gabriel stiffen in his arms, papers scattering on the floor, but he didn’t care. “You dumbass, I have a job here. I’ve been living and working here way before I started school. And besides, even if I didn’t have a job, I’d be staying anyway. I got into Sun Valley’s literature and poetry doctorate program.”

Gabriel embraced him back hesitantly, like he thought Jack might rip himself away at any moment. “You applied? I didn’t know you decided to, that’s… that’s amazing, Jack.”

Jack buried his face in the crook of Gabriel’s neck, nodding. “I didn’t really tell anyone I was applying. Didn’t want to jinx myself,” he said, voice muffled. “Do you think we could try again? I think we’d get it right this time.”

Gabriel lifted Jack’s head, made them look each other in the eyes. “Do you mean that?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Jack said. “What about you?”

Gabriel smiled at him, then, lines crinkling at the corners of his eyes, and Jack had never seen anything so beautiful. _I kiss the lines of his face, precious markers of time that brought him to me,_ he started composing in his head.

And then Gabriel kissed him, soft. A promise. “I’d love that,” he said, and Jack heard the meaning behind his words.

***

_Three years later_

“Are you sure you have time tonight? Don’t you have comps in a few days? Shouldn’t you be studying?” Sombra asked, watching Jack fiddle with his guitar, tuning it carefully.

“Why do you think I’m here,” Jack said, grinning up at her. “I feel like I’ve been shaking out of my skin for the past week. Believe me, I _need_ this.”

“He really does,” Gabriel said, walking in with a crate of beer. “Do you know how many times I’ve been woken up by the bed literally shaking while he studies? We _both_ need this. I’m gonna be so glad when he passes comps and moves onto his dissertation.”

“Sounds like he could do with some other, more interactive stress relief,” Sombra leered. Next to her, Amélie made a face.

“Gross.”

“Believe me, we tried,” Jack smirked. Sombra made a face at him.

“Gross, Jack!”

“Hey, you’re the one who brought it up!”

“Yeah, but I didn’t need to know that!”

“I can hear you two fighting from the street.” The door pushed open as Ana and Reinhardt stepped inside. “It sounds like a mature argument,” Ana said, a small smile turning up the corners of her lips.

“Jack’s mature all right,” Gabried said, raising his eyebrows pointedly. Amélie let out a noise of disgust and smacked his shoulder.

“Don’t you have work to do?” she asked.

“I know what I’d rather be doing,” he said, blowing a kiss to Jack, who laughed and mimed catching it. Ana rolled her eyes as Reinhardt burst into raucous laughter. Gabriel started unloading the beer, stocking it in the minifridge under a polished bar. “I’m almost ready, anyway. What about you, Jack?”

“Good to go,” Jack said, giving him a thumbs up.

“All right. Let’s get this going, what do you say?”

An hour later, Jack walked through the throng of people up to a small stage area and took a seat. “Hey, everyone,” he said into the microphone that had been set up. Gabriel was making brisk business behind the bar, pulling drinks and exchanging money as more and more people came in off the street. Jack picked up his guitar. “Thanks for being here. We’re really happy to welcome you to the grand opening of Watchpoint. Enjoy the music.” The crowd cheered, and Jack smiled, strumming quietly.

He caught Gabriel’s eye, and his smile softened, matched by Gabriel’s own. It had taken a lot of work to open a new bar -- a lot of late nights, saved money, panicked conversations -- but Gabriel had done it. _They_ had done it.

Light flashed off of the ring on Gabriel’s left hand, and Jack sucked in a breath and started singing. He could see the matching ring on his own left hand. A promise they had filled, and would keep fulfilling.


End file.
